Part Five竹取物語 5

The Minister of the Right, Abe no Miushi, was a man rich in goods and wide in household. He wrote a letter to one Wang Qing, of a ship from the land of Tang that had crossed over that year, saying, "Buy me the thing they call the fur robe of the fire rat, and send it to me." He chose from among those who served him a man sure of heart, one Ono no Fusamori, and sent him with it. Fusamori carried it there and gave the gold to Wang Qing, who was at that harbor.

Wang Qing opened the letter and read it, and wrote an answer. "The fur robe of the fire rat is a thing not in this country. I have heard of it by report, but I have never yet seen it. If it were a thing that is in the world, it would have come to this country too. It is a very hard trade. Still, if by chance one has been brought over from India, I shall ask after it among the rich houses and seek it out. If there is no such thing, I shall send the gold back with your messenger."

That ship from the land of Tang came. When the minister heard that Ono no Fusamori had returned and was coming up to the capital, he sent a swift-footed horse to run and meet him, and Fusamori rode and came up from Tsukushi in only seven days. The minister looked at the letter, and it said, "With much trouble I sent out a man and sought the fur robe of the fire rat, and I present it to you. In this age or in the ages past, this skin has never been an easy thing to find. Long ago a wise holy man of India brought it over to this country, and I heard word that it was in a mountain temple in the west. I made petition to the court, and with much trouble bought it and present it to you. The officer sent by the province said the gold for the price was too little, so Wang Qing added his own goods and bought it. Now you must send me fifty ryo of gold. Send it when the ship returns. If the gold is not to be given, send the robe back to me; let it stand as the pledge until then."

Seeing this, he said, "What is he saying? It is only a small matter of gold now. It is a thing that must be sent without fail. How glad I am that he has sent it," and he bowed down toward the land of Tang and worshiped. When he looked at the box the robe was in, it was made with many kinds of beautiful lapis worked into it in colors. When he looked at the robe, it was of a deep dark blue. At the tips of the hairs a golden light shone. It looked a treasure indeed, and for beauty there was nothing to compare with it. Even more than that it did not burn in fire, its clear loveliness was beyond all match. "No wonder Kaguya-hime longs for it," he said, and, "Ah, how awesome," and he put it in the box and tied it to the branch of a tree. He dressed himself with the greatest care, thinking that he would surely stay in that house from then on, and he made a poem besides and carried it with him. The poem was this:

The fur robe that does not burn in the fire of my endless longing — my sleeve that was always wet is dry, and today at last I shall put it on.

He came to the gate of the house and stood there. The bamboo cutter came out and took it in and showed it to Kaguya-hime. Kaguya-hime looked at the robe and said, "It seems a beautiful skin. But whether it is truly that skin I cannot tell."

The bamboo cutter answered and said, "Be that as it may, let us first invite him in. It is a robe of a kind not seen in the world, so think of it as the true one. Do not make a man suffer so." And he called the minister in and seated him. Having called him in and seated him so, the old woman too thought in her heart, "This time she will surely take him." This old man grieved that Kaguya-hime lived alone, and planned and thought, "I will match her with a good man." But she said "No" with all her might, and it was only right that he could not force her.

Kaguya-hime said to the old man, "If this robe is put in the fire and does not burn, then it must be the true one. Thinking so, I shall yield to what people say. He says, 'It is a thing not in the world, so think it true and do not doubt it,' but even so I shall burn it and see."

The old man said, "That too is reasonable," and told the minister, "This is what she says." The minister answered and said, "This skin was not even in the land of Tang. With much trouble it was sought out and got. What doubt can there be? But even if she says so, burn it quickly and see." So it was thrown into the fire and burned, and it went up in flames. "So then, it was the skin of some other thing," they said. The minister looked on this and sat with his face the color of a grass leaf. Kaguya-hime sat rejoicing and saying, "Ah, how glad I am." She answered the poem he had made, and put it in the box and sent it back.

Had I known it would burn away and leave no trace, this robe of skin — I would have set it outside the fire and looked upon it still.

So it was. And so he went home again. The people of the world asked, "Minister Abe brought the fur robe of the fire rat and is living with Kaguya-hime, they say. Is he here?" Someone said, "The robe was put in the fire and burned, and it went up in flames, so Kaguya-hime would not receive him." Hearing this, people came to call a thing that comes to nothing aenashi.