as felt. Ah! He was indeed a
handsome man. Not too young to seem a callow youth to the eyes of
Shimo's sixteen years; not too old to look on her merely as one of
different sex. Indeed he was not yet thirty years, a soldier, carrying
his two swords and his person most nobly. At very sight of him Shimo was
carried into the gust of the love passion. Her cheeks were "dashed with
the maple leaf, her heart swelled as the noon-tide." Her confusion did
not escape the notice of one already surprised at sight of a girl so
young strolling alone on the byways of the Bancho[u]. At once he spoke,
with the confidence of one who has the right to question--"And who may
this little beauty be, unaccompanied, with night so close at hand? The
Bancho[u] is said to be no safe place with coming of darkness. If on
some mission and belated, this Shu[u]zen will protect from harm. Or
perhaps, though young in years, this is some new wife. Or is it a lover
who is in question?" He spoke with kindness and authority, coming very
close to get his answer, his eyes fastened on my person, to the greater
increase of embarrassment. Vain was the attempt to throw some
indignation into the reply. Lover there was none. Of but sixteen years,
Shimo was in the hands of father and mother. To admit a lover would be
unfilial.... The father? Kawasaki Cho[u]bei, attached to the palace
stables. Humble was his rank in the minor office he held; but a one
time _ashigaru_ (common soldier) his service had entitled him to the
position and the suzerain's stipend of twenty _koku_. Hence he was of
some consequence among his neighbours. At this information, given with
some heat, the _samurai_ smiled and praised my father's service.

He did more than praise; on this night, and other nights. Frequent were
the meetings. Yet never did this Shimo pass the bounds of propriety.
Carried away by the gust of passion, incited by the lover's presence and
solicitation, yet Shimo's filial duty kept her person pure. A night came
when he failed at the rendezvous. So with the next, and following
nights. He had laughed at parting, and said that where was the will,
there a means would be found. Plainly the will was lacking, and he was
too proud and too highly placed even to endure the presence of Shimo at
his side. With these thoughts, and overcome by love and vexation, I
sickened. Great was the anxiety of the parents. Doctors were called in;
the priest's charms were sought. They were of no avail. It