The Nurse

Ide the samurai was married to a beautiful wife and had an only child, a boy named Fugiwaka. Ide was a mighty warrior and was often away from home on his lord's business. So the child Fugiwaka was raised by his mother and by his faithful nurse, Matsu. Matsu means "Pine Tree" in the language of the land, and like the pine tree she was strong and evergreen, unchanging and enduring.

In Ide's house there was a very precious sword. Long ago, a hero of Ide's clan had slain forty-eight of his enemies with this sword in a single battle. The sword was Ide's most sacred treasure. He kept it stored away in a safe place with his household gods.

Morning and evening, the child Fugiwaka came to bow before the household gods and to honor the glorious memory of his ancestors. And Matsu, the nurse, knelt by his side.

Morning and evening, Fugiwaka would say, "Show me the sword, O Matsu, my nurse."

And Matsu would answer, "Of course, my lord, I will show it to you."

Then she would bring the sword from its place, wrapped in a covering of red and gold brocade. She would remove the covering, take the sword from its golden sheath, and display the bright steel to Fugiwaka. And the child would bow so low that his forehead touched the mats.

At bedtime, Matsu sang songs and lullabies. She sang this song:

"Sleep, my little child, sweetly sleep--\nWould you know the secret,\nThe secret of the hare of Nennin Yama?\nSleep, my little child, sweetly sleep--\nYou shall know the secret.\nOh, the august hare of Nennin Yama,\nHow augustly long are his ears!\nWhy should this be, oh, best beloved?\nYou shall know the secret.\nHis mother ate the bamboo seed.\nHush! Hush!\nHis mother ate the loquat seed.\nHush! Hush!\nSleep, my little child, sweetly sleep--\nNow you know the secret."

Then Matsu would say, "Will you sleep now, my lord Fugiwaka?"

And the child would answer, "I will sleep now, O Matsu."

"Listen, my lord," she would say, "and, sleeping or waking, remember. The sword is your treasure. The sword is your trust. The sword is your fortune. Cherish it, guard it, keep it."

"Sleeping or waking, I will remember," said Fugiwaka.

But one evil day, Fugiwaka's mother fell ill and died. There was mourning in the house of Ide. However, after some years, the samurai took another bride, and she bore him a son, whom he named Goro. And after that, Ide himself was killed in an ambush, and his retainers brought his body home and laid him to rest beside his ancestors.

Fugiwaka became the head of the House of Ide. But his stepmother, Lady Sadako, was not pleased. Black mischief stirred in her heart; she knitted her brows and brooded as she went about her days, carrying her baby in her arms. At night she tossed on her bed.

"My child is a beggar," she said. "Fugiwaka is head of the House of Ide. Evil fortune befall him! It is too much," said the proud lady. "I will not endure it; my child a beggar! I would rather strangle him with my own hands...." Thus she spoke and tossed on her bed, thinking of a plan.

When Fugiwaka was fifteen years old, she turned him out of the house with a poor garment on his back, barefoot, with nothing to eat or drink and not a single gold piece to help him on his way.

"Ah, lady mother," he said, "you treat me badly. Why do you take away my birthright?"

"I know nothing of birthrights," she said. "Go, make your own fortune if you can. Your brother Goro is head of the House of Ide."

With that, she ordered the servants to shut the door in his face.

Fugiwaka left sorrowfully, and at the crossroads his nurse, Matsu, met him. She had prepared herself for a journey: her robe was kilted up, she had a staff in her hand and sandals on her feet.

"My lord," she said, "I have come to follow you to the ends of the earth."

Then Fugiwaka wept and laid his head on the woman's breast.

"Ah," he said, "my nurse, my nurse! And what of my father's sword? I have lost the precious sword of Ide. The sword is my treasure, my trust, my fortune. I am bound to cherish it, guard it, keep it. But now I have lost it. Woe is me! I am undone, and so is the whole House of Ide!"

"Oh, do not say that, my lord," said Matsu. "Here is gold; go on your way, and I will return and guard the sword of Ide."

So Fugiwaka went on his way with the gold his nurse had given him.

Meanwhile, Matsu went straight to the place where the sword lay with the household gods, took it from its place, and buried it deep in the ground until she could safely bring it to her young lord.

But soon Lady Sadako realized that the sacred sword was gone.

"It is the nurse!" she cried. "The nurse has stolen it... Some of you, bring her to me."

Then Lady Sadako's people laid rough hands on Matsu and brought her before her mistress. But no matter what they did, Matsu's lips were sealed. She spoke not a single word, and Lady Sadako could not find out where the sword was. She pressed her thin lips together.

"The woman is stubborn," she said. "No matter; for such a fault I know the perfect cure."

So she locked Matsu in a dark dungeon and gave her neither food nor drink. Every day, Lady Sadako went to the door of the dark dungeon.

"Well," she said, "where is the sword of Ide? Will you tell me?"

But Matsu did not answer a word.

However, she wept and sighed to herself in the darkness: "Alas! Alas! I may never come to my young lord while I live. Yet he must have the sword of Ide, and I will find a way."

After seven days, Lady Sadako sat in the garden house to cool off, for it was summer. It was evening. Presently she saw a woman coming toward her through the garden flowers and trees. Frail and slender was the woman; as she came, her body swayed and her slow steps faltered.

"Why, this is strange!" said Lady Sadako. "Here is Matsu, who was locked in the dark dungeon." And she sat still, watching.

But Matsu went to the place where she had buried the sword and scratched at the ground with her fingers. She wept and moaned, dragging at the earth. The stones cut her hands, and they bled. Still she tore away the earth and found the sword at last. It was in its wrapping of gold and scarlet, and she clasped it to her bosom with a loud cry.

"Woman, I have you now," shrieked Lady Sadako, "and the sword of Ide as well!" And she leaped from the garden house and ran at full speed. She reached out her hand to catch Matsu by the sleeve, but she caught neither Matsu nor the sword, for both disappeared in a flash, and the lady beat the empty air. Swiftly she ran to the dark dungeon, calling her people to bring torches. There lay the body of poor Matsu, cold and dead on the dungeon floor.

"Send for the Wise Woman," said Lady Sadako.

So they sent for the Wise Woman. And Lady Sadako asked, "How long has she been dead?"

The Wise Woman said, "She was starved to death; she has been dead for two days. It would be well if you gave her a proper burial; she was a good soul."

As for the sword of Ide, it was not found.

Fugiwaka tossed and turned on his lowly bed in a wayside inn. And it seemed to him that his nurse came to him and knelt by his side. Then he was comforted.

Matsu said, "Will you sleep now, my lord Fugiwaka?"

And he answered, "I will sleep now, O Matsu."

"Listen, my lord," she said, "and, sleeping or waking, remember. The sword is your treasure. The sword is your trust. The sword is your fortune. Cherish it, guard it, keep it."

The sword was in its wrapping of gold and scarlet, and she laid it by Fugiwaka's side. The boy turned over to sleep, and his hand clasped the sword of Ide.

"Waking or sleeping," he said, "I will remember."