One can not be too insistent in asserting how harmful the lack of poise can be, and when once this weakness has reached the stage of timidity it may produce the most tragic consequences not only so far as the daily routine of our lives is con... Read more of WAR ON TIMIDITY at Difficult.caInformational Site Network Informational
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Flower Of The Peony

from Japanese Fairy Tales





Aya, sweet maid, was the only child of a daimyo of the Province of
Omi. Mother had she none, and her father was a noble lord and a warrior.
He was at the Court of the Shogun, or he had weighty affairs at the
capital, or he went here and there with armies and overcame his enemies.
Aya saw little of him.

Long years she dwelt with her nurse and her maidens within the walls of
her father's castle. High walls were they and well-guarded, and at their
foot was a deep moat which was rosy with lotus flowers all the seventh
month.

When the Lady Aya was some sixteen years old her father the daimyo
came home victorious from a foray, and she went with her maidens to meet
him in the gate. She was dressed in her bravest, and as became her rank.

"My lord and father," she said, "sweet is your honourable return."

"Child, how you have grown!" her father said, astonished. "How old are
you, Aya?"

"Sixteen years old, lord," she said.

"By all the gods, you are become a little great young lady, and I
thought you were a baby and brought you home a doll for a home-coming
gift."

He laughed, but presently afterwards grew grave, and in deep thought he
went into the castle.

Soon after this he began to look about him, to find a fitting husband
for his daughter.

"Best it should be done now," he said, "for a wonder has come to pass,
and I am at peace with every daimyo in the land--and it will not
last."

The Lord of Ako, in Harima, had three tall sons, fine young men and
warriors all.

"The eldest is over old," said the Lord of Omi. "The youngest is a
boy--but what of the middle brother? It seems to me that the middle
brother should do well. They say that second thoughts are best," said
the Lord of Omi.

So after messengers had come and gone, the Lady Aya was betrothed to the
young Lord of Ako, and there was great rejoicing in all the
country-side, for all the man and the maiden had never set eyes on one
another.

The Lady Aya was very glad when she saw the presents that came from her
bridegroom's house. She sat with the seamstress of the castle and
fingered the soft stuffs of her fine new robes. For the rest, she played
with her maidens the live-long day, or took her broidery frame, plying
the needle and long silken thread. It was the month of May, and very
often they took the air in a garden gallery, where Aya and her maids
laughed together, and sometimes they spoke of the young Lord of Ako and
how brave and beautiful he was, how skilful in art and in war, and how
rich. When evening came they slipped down the gallery steps and into the
garden, where they went hither and thither, hand in hand, to enjoy the
cool air and the sweet scent of the flowers.

One night the Lady Aya walked in the garden according to her wont. The
moon rose, round and silver.

"Ah me," sighed one of the maidens, "the moon is a love-lorn lady. Look
how pale and wan she goes, and even now she will hide her eyes with her
long sleeve of cloud."

"You speak sooth," returned Aya, "the moon is a love-lorn lady; but have
you seen her faint sister who is sadder and fairer than she?"

"Who, then, is the moon's sister?" asked all the maidens at once.

Aya said, "Come and see--come."

With that she drew them along the paths of the garden to the still pond,
where were the dancing fireflies and the frogs that sang musically.
Holding each other's hands, the maidens looked down into the water, and
one and all they beheld the moon's sister, and they laughed softly
together. While they played by the water's brim, the Lady Aya's foot
slipped upon a smooth stone, and most assuredly she would have fallen
into the pond. But all of a sudden a youth leapt forward out of the
sweet secrecy of the night, and caught her in his arms. For a moment all
the maidens beheld the glimmer of his garments. Then he was gone. Aya
stood alone, trembling. Down gazed the moon, wide-eyed and sorrowful;
and still more sorrowful and sweet, upwards gazed the moon's pale
sister. They saw a band of silent maidens who stood in a wilderness of
blossoming peony flowers, that grew to the water's edge. It was the Lady
Aya who loved them and had them planted so.

Now the lady turned without a word and moved along the paths of the
garden very slowly, hanging her head. When she came to the garden
gallery she left all her maidens save one, and went silently to her
bower.

There she was for a long space, saying nothing. She sat and traced the
pattern on her robe with the point of her finger. And Sada, her maiden,
was over against her.

At length, "He was a great lord," said Aya.

"Truth, lady."

"He was young."

"He was passing well-favoured."

"Alas! he saved my life, and I had not time to thank him."

"The moon shone upon the jewelled mounting of his sword."

"And his robe that was broidered with peony flowers--my peony flowers."

"Lady, the hour grows very late."

"Well, then, untie my girdle."

"You look pale, lady."

"Small marvel, I am weary."

"Lady, what of the young Lord of Ako?"

"What of him? Why, I have not seen him. Enough, let be--no more of him.
Alas! I am drowsy, I know not what I say."

After this night the Lady Aya, that had been so fresh and fair and
dancing gay as a wave of the sea, fell into a pale melancholy. By day
she sighed, and by night she wept. She smiled no more as she beheld her
rich wedding-garments, and she would not play any more with her maidens
upon the garden gallery. She wandered like a shadow, or lay speechless
in her bower. And all the wise men and all the wise women of that
country-side were not able to heal her of her sickness.

Then the maid Sada, weeping and hiding her face with her sleeve, went to
the Lord of the House and told him of the moonlight adventure and the
fair youth of the peony bed.

"Ah me," she said, "my sweet mistress pines and dies for the love of
this beautiful young man."

"Child," said the daimyo, "how you talk! My daughter's garden is well
guarded by walls and by men-at-arms. It is not possible that any
stranger should enter it. What, then, is this tale of the moon and a
samurai in peony garments and all manner of other foolishness, and how
will such a tale sound in the ears of the Lord of Ako?"

But Sada wept and said, "My mistress will die."

"To fight in the field, to flatter at Court and to speak in Council, all
these are easy," said the daimyo, "but preserve me from the affairs of
my women, for they are too hard for me."

With that he made a search of all the castle and the castle grounds, but
not a trace did he find of any stranger in hiding.

That night the Lady Aya called piteously for the cooler air, so they
bore her out on to her garden gallery, where she lay in O Sada's arms. A
minstrel of the household took his biwa, and to soothe her he made
this song:

"Music of my lute--
Is it born, does it die,
Is it truth or a lie?
Whence, whence and where,
Enchanted air?
Music of my lute
Is mute.

"Sweet scents in the night--
Do they float, do they seem,
Are they essence of dream,
Or thus are they said
The thoughts of the Dead?
Sweet scents in the night
Delight."

Now, while the minstrel sang and touched his instrument, a fair youth
stood up from the rosy sea of peonies by the pond. All there saw him
clearly, his bright eyes, his sword, and his dress broidered with
flowers. The Lady Aya gave a wild cry and ran to the edge of the garden
gallery, holding out her white arms. And immediately the vision passed
away. But the minstrel took up his biwa once more and sang:

"Love more strange than death--
Is it longer than life,
Is it hotter than strife?
Strong, strong and blind,
Transcending kind--
Love more strange than death
Or breath."

At this the mysterious knight of the flowers stood once again straight
and tall, and his shining eyes were fixed upon the Lady Aya.

Then a gentleman of the company of the daimyo, who was a mighty man of
war, drew his sword forthwith and leapt down amongst the peonies to do
battle with the bold stranger that so gazed upon his master's daughter.
And at that a cloud drew across the moon's face as if by faery, and of a
sudden a great hot wind blew from the south. The lights died upon the
garden gallery, the maidens held their garments together while their
long gossamer sleeves floated out. All the peony bed was tossed about
like a troubled sea, and the pink and white petals flew like foam. A
mist, damp and over-sweet, hung upon the wind, so that all who were
there grew faint and clung to one another, trembling.

When they were recovered, they found the night still and the moon
undimmed. The soldier of the daimyo's company stood panting and white
as death at the steps of the garden gallery. In his right hand he held
his unstained sword, in his left a perfect peony flower.

"I have him," he shouted; "he could not escape me. I have him fast."

Aya said, "Give me the flower"; and he gave it her without a word, as
one in a dream.

Then Aya went to her bower and slept with the peony upon her breast and
was satisfied.

For nine days she kept the flower. The sweet colour came to her face,
and the light to her eyes. She was perfectly healed of her sickness.

She set the peony in a bronze vase and it did not droop or fade, but
grew larger and more lovely all the nine days.

At the end of this time the young Lord of Ako came riding in great pomp
and state to claim his long-promised lady. So he and the Lady Aya were
wed in the midst of much feasting and rejoicing. Howbeit, they say she
made but a pale bride. And the same day the peony withered and was
thrown away.





Next: The Mallet

Previous: The Wind In The Pine Tree



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