Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [324]
“Your challenge is worthy of a samurai,” replied Musashi. “If this is your true purpose, I may lose my life to you. But you talk of discharging your duty, you speak of revenge according to the Way of the Samurai. Why, then, do you not challenge me properly, as Seijūrō and Denshichirō did? Why do you attack en masse?”
“You’re the one who’s been hiding!”
“Nonsense! You’re merely proving that a coward attributes cowardice to others. Am I not standing here before you?”
“Because you were afraid of being caught when you tried to escape!” “Not so! I could have escaped any number of ways.”
“And did you think the Yoshioka School would have let you?”
“I assumed that you would greet me one way or another. But wouldn’t it disgrace us, not only as individuals but as members of our class, to brawl here? Should we disturb the people here, like a pack of wild beasts or worthless tramps? You speak of your obligation to your master, but wouldn’t a fight here heap still greater shame on the Yoshioka name? If that’s what you’ve decided on, then that’s what you shall have! If you’ve resolved to destroy your teacher’s work, disband your school and abandon the Way of the Samurai, I have nothing more to say—save this: Musashi will fight so long as his limbs hold together.”
“Kill him!” cried the man next to Jūrōzaemon, whipping out his sword. A distant voice cried, “Watch out! It’s Itakura!”
As magistrate of Kyoto, Itakura Katsushige was a powerful man, and though he governed well, he did so with an iron fist. Even children sang songs about him. “Whose chestnut roan is that, clopping down the street? Itakura Katsushige’s?/Run, everyone, run.” Or “Itakura, Lord of Iga, has/ more hands than the Thousand-armed Kannon,/more eyes than the three-eyed Temmoku./His constables are everywhere.”
Kyoto was not an easy city to rule. While Edo was well on the way to replacing it as the country’s greatest city, the ancient capital was still a center for economic, political and military life. And as the place where culture and education were most highly advanced, it was also the one where criticism of the shogunate was most articulate. The townspeople had, from about the fourteenth century, given up all military ambition and taken to trades and crafts. They were now recognized as a class apart, and on the whole a conservative one.
Also among the populace were many samurai who sat on the fence, waiting to see whether the Tokugawas would be upset by the Toyotomis, as well as a number of upstart military leaders who, while lacking both background and lineage, managed to maintain personal armies of considerable size. There was also a considerable number of rōnin like those in Nara.
Libertines and hedonists were plentiful in all classes, so that the number of drinking shops and brothels was disproportionate to the city’s size.
Considerations of expediency rather than political convictions tended to govern the allegiance of a substantial portion of the people. They swam with the current and grasped any opportunity seemingly favorable to themselves.
A story circulated in the city at the time of Itakura’s appointment, in 1601, said that before accepting, he asked Ieyasu if he might first consult his wife. When he returned home, he said to her: “Since ancient times, there have been innumerable men in positions of honor who have performed outstanding deeds but have ended up bringing disgrace upon themselves and their families. Most often the source of their failure is to be found in their wives or family connections. Thus I consider it most important to discuss this appointment with you. If you will swear that you won’t interfere with my activities as magistrate, I will accept the post.”
His wife readily consented, avowing that “wives have no business interfering in matters of this sort.” Then the next morning, as Itakura was