Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

The name Waka may also be written with the character for Chi [稚].
This legend likely gained renown after being widely circulated as one of the Five Sekkyō—though some enumerations exclude this *jōruri* adaptation—and through incorporation into Gidayū ballads, scripts, and chapbooks; however, its excessive branching in later adaptations has made the primitive form difficult to reconstruct.
Yet the *sekkyō-bushi* narratives that pioneered its greatest popularity may safely be regarded as closest to the primitive form.

For this reason—given that *sekkyō tayū* licenses were issued from Kōkannon Kinshō-ji Temple in Gōshū, and as *Ōmi Yochi Shiryaku* records that *sekkyō* performers from neighboring provinces gathered at Seki no Shimizu for Yonomiya Myōjin’s festivals—it seems not entirely unreasonable to imagine that narratives centering on the Pine of Karasaki while incorporating Hiyoshi and Zeze were compiled for these very practitioners.
As extant manuscripts are now exceedingly scarce, I shall here set down a relatively detailed synopsis.

In the reign of Emperor Saga, there was a man called Left Minister Kiyohira, Former Chamberlain of Nijō.
His wife was the daughter of Ichijō Kanpaku Munesue, but the couple had no children.
Among the family's treasured heirlooms were two items: a bladed great sword and a Chinese-style saddle (the family inheritance—a bladed great sword; a Chinese-style saddle.
Treasures bestowed from heaven). These two existed.
When the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven brought divine retribution, causing Her Majesty to fall gravely ill, the Emperor himself placed a Chinese-style saddle upon a two-year-old horse, girded the bladed great sword, and proceeded to the Shishinden Hall for an imperial procession. Through the sacred power of these spiritual treasures, the demon king immediately retreated, and Her Majesty’s affliction was suddenly cured.
The Emperor, deeply moved and presuming other households might possess renowned treasures as well, held a treasure competition. When Rokujō Hangan Yukishige—having no treasure worthy of imperial presentation—sat there in mortification, Kiyohira humiliated him and compelled his withdrawal.

The Hangan had five sons, and his heir was called Yoshinaga.
When he returned home and recounted the day’s humiliating events, Yoshinaga advised his father on the method of vengeance.
That plan was this: “A child is a treasure beyond any jewel.”
Fortunately, since Nijō’s Chamberlain had no child, Yoshinaga declared they would petition to hold a child competition and make him suffer disgrace.
Yukishige, blessed with many children, regained immense honor.
In profound gratitude for this stratagem, Yoshinaga was granted the governorship of Echigo.

Kiyohira, now humiliated in turn, returned home and consulted with his wife, whereupon they resolved to beseech Kannon of Hasedera Temple for a vow-born child.
On the seventh day of their fulfilled vows, the Bodhisattva appeared in the couple’s dream and declared that since karmic causes prevented them from bearing a child, he could not grant one.
They were made to declare: “Abandon your hopes and return home.”
The couple devoted themselves to three more days of prayer and earnestly wished for acceptance—only to be told: “We shall grant you a child, but when he turns three years old, one of his parents must die” (First Section).

Rokujō Hangan Yukishige, his resentment still unappeased, upon hearing that his rival had secluded himself at Hasedera Temple to pray for some secret matter, planned to ambush him at Katsura River together with his retainers Takeda no Tarō and Yoshinaga.
In the Nijō household, there was a retainer named Araki Saemon.
While accompanying his master and mistress on their return journey from Hasedera Temple and fighting against the ambush forces that appeared at Katsura River, a monk named Tōkō(-bō) from Nanto happened to pass by and mediated the conflict (Second Section).

The Northern Consort gave birth to a jewel-like Aigo-no-Waka.
The three years of the vow passed, and Waka turned thirteen.
The promised time had long passed.
When they thought their lives had not been claimed, even the gods and buddhas held falsehoods.
Therefore, as humans who had made such vows, they too must steel their hearts and learn that when necessity demanded lies become imperative.
Hase Kannon heard these words and became enraged; to claim the Midokoro’s life she severed Yamau Cape’s binding rope—thus did Waka at last lose his mother.

Araki Saemon and his relatives, concerned about the Chamberlain’s solitary state, took Princess Kumoi of Hachijō Palace as his second wife.
Aigo-no-Waka, upon hearing of his father’s remarriage, secluded himself in the family chapel to console his mother’s spirit.
Too weighed down by melancholy, he climbed Hanazonoyama Hill in the garden to console himself with his hand-raised monkey Tejiro—a sight his stepmother chanced upon; not knowing he was her own child, she fell in love.
Persuading her maid Tsukishoyo, she sent love letters up to seven times a day.
The young lord, ultimately distressed, hid himself behind the bamboo blinds.

The two women, fearing that Aigo might inform his father the Chamberlain of these circumstances, instead resorted to a scheme to frame the young lord.
The scheme was this: steal the treasured saddle and sword, hand them over to Tsukishoyo’s husband, have him hawk them for sale at Sakura Gate in the capital, ensure they caught Kiyohira’s attention, and then make it appear that Aigo had stolen and sold them—such was their plot.
This plot swiftly succeeded, and the enraged Kiyohira bound Aigo-no-Waka’s arms behind his back, hanging him from a cherry tree.
As Aigo-no-Waka vomited blood and writhed in agony from his torment, Tejiro the monkey climbed the tree in an attempt to rescue his master—yet could not untie the ropes (Third Section).

But then came a sudden reversal—at Enma’s court in hell, Aigo-no-Waka’s mother emerged to beg for her son’s life and plead to personally save him. When she had demons search for a corpse to inhabit, they reported that no humans had died in the mortal realm that day—only a single weasel lay dead. Without hesitation, the mother entrusted her soul to the weasel’s body, manifested beneath the cherry tree, and gnawed through her son’s bonds. Tejiro caught him from below, leaving him unharmed. The weasel revealed itself as his mother’s temporary form and warned that remaining here would ultimately endanger his life, urging him to flee to Mount Hiei’s Western Pagoda where his uncle Venerable So Ajari dwelled in the northern valley—then vanished. Aigo-no-Waka now awaited the day to slip away from home (Fourth Section).

On a dark and rainy night when he left home and reached Shijō Riverbed, there stood a thatched hut southward leaking firelight.
It was a dwelling of outcast-class craftsmen.
When he approached and knocked on the door—they suspecting bandits—they emerged bearing a naginata.
As Aigo-no-Waka recounted his full tale, they revered him in awe: spreading a plank over their mortar, laying rough mats, purifying rice sevenfold in Kamo River's current, then offering it in earthenware.
Thus originated the custom of laying rush mats before deities—so the legend expounds.
At dawn's breaking, escorted by these craftsmen, he resolved toward Mount Hiei.
Yet midway along the path stood three prohibition tablets.
The first banned women; the second bore unclear characters ("sanhi? yōjya"); the third barred craftsmen.
When the artisans sought to turn back, Aigo-no-Waka vehemently entreated them to escort him to his uncle's abode.
"Though your command rings just," they declared, "being baseborn folk, we humbly take our leave"—and so retreated.

When Aigo-no-Waka visited So Ajari alone, his uncle—startled by his nephew’s arrival—ordered someone to check the number of carriages and horses. Finding only a single child standing there, he concluded, “This must be the Great Tengu of Kitadani come to test my spiritual powers!” Denying any such nephew existed, he commanded his followers to beat him.
Aigo-no-Waka attempted to descend the mountain but wandered lost along the mountain paths for three days, finally reaching Shiga Pass at dusk on the third day.
There, exhausted and resting, he was met by the Tahata no Suke brothers from Awazu Manor—journeying to the capital for the Ten Thousand Monks Ceremony.
Having heard his full account and taken pity on him, they divided millet rice onto oak leaves and offered it to him.
“Since that august reign,” they explained, “it has been said that resolve should be wrapped in leaves.”

Delighted by their kindness, when he asked their family name, the younger brother Senchyo said, “This is what they call Kiyosu-no-Han.”
Though they wished to accompany him, as they had to go to the capital, they parted ways and continued their ascent.

And so, thereafter,

Taking a small pine from the rocks, he planted it at Shiga Pass and imbued it with a solemn decree.
"If Aigo were to prosper in this world," he declared, "may this pine be called the Thousand Pines of Karasaki, branch upon branch flourishing."
"But should Aigo come to naught," he proclaimed through tears as he departed for Anō Village, "then let this pine—a single trunk bearing but one leaf—be known as the Lone Pine of Shiga Karasaki."
It was late in Uzuki when the hedges reached their fullest splendor; gazing upon them, the young lord showed particular fondness.

At that moment, the old woman of the house appeared, raised a reijya cane, and attempted to strike.
The young lord, considering being struck a disgrace, hid in a hemp field, but an untimely wind blew through, laying bare his hiding place. "If even peach blossoms witness this shame," he thought inwardly, "plucking their fruit would stir wrath—"
She beat him while trampling through the hemp plants.

The young lord decreed that in Anō Village peaches would never ripen.
Though hemp might be sown there, it would never become cloth.
From when he proclaimed "Let no storms rage," flowers bloomed yet bore no peaches.
Hemp was sown yet never turned to linen.

Anō Village was cursed for generations to come.

When he came to Kiriu Falls, cherry blossoms scattered into Aigo's sleeve.
When he looked upon them, they were still buds.
Then he considered—the fallen blossoms as his deceased Mother, those in bloom as Father, and scattering buds as his own fate—and gnawed off his little finger to set down these grievances, pooling blood between rocks to record his lamentations.

He threw himself into Kamikura ya Kiriu Falls.
Let it be told and retold.
The pines stood clustered.

Finally, the young lord threw himself into [the falls]. At that time, he was fifteen years old (Fifth Section).

The mountain monks who found a kosode hanging by the waterfall—mistaking it for a mountain acolyte’s suicide—ascended to the main hall and conducted an acolyte headcount using drum signals.
However, through the crest on the kosode, they discerned this was Aigo-no-Waka.
To verify the facts, a messenger was dispatched to Nijō.
When his father [Kiyohira], uncle [So Ajari], and others gathered to investigate, they discovered a grievance letter in the garment’s hem concluding: “How could I ever forget the devotion shown by the craftsman couple of Shijō Riverbed or the compassion of the Tahata no Suke brothers?
I beseech you to pardon [my neglect of] public duties (kuji).”

Thereupon, Lady Kumoi was bound in a bamboo mat and sunk into the river, while Tsukishoyo, after being paraded through the streets, was thrown into the Inasega Abyss.

When they came to the waterfall and looked, the floating corpse had sunk out of sight. When prayers were offered, a black cloud descended from the north, and a sixteen-jō serpent appeared bearing Aigo-no-Waka's remains upon its back. As Kiyohira entered the pond, So Ajari too—with all his disciples—followed and cast themselves in. The old woman of Anō, overcome with remorse, threw herself after them. Tahata no Suke and Tejiro no Saru likewise perished utterly. The craftsman couple entered the lake from that place, taking the Pine of Karasaki as Aigo's keepsake. Thus it is recorded that those who died then—noble and commoner alike—numbered one hundred and eight.

The archbishop heard of this and enshrined Aigo as Sannō Gongen.
On the latter Monkey Day if there were two Monkey Days in April, or the middle Monkey Day if there were three, parishioners from twenty-one villages—beginning with Nakashimo Sakamoto and Heitsuchi (possibly Hiei-tsuji)—along with three thousand monks from Mount Hiei and three thousand from Miidera Temple, would hold a boat festival (Sixth Section), it was said.

On the cover’s title label,

Hiyoshi-san Ōmatsuri Tenma

Aigo-no-Waka

The Origin of the Lone Pine of Karasaki Hachidayu

As such, it was published in the first month of Hōei 5 (1708) by Uroko-gata-ya in Ōdenma-chō.
Sekkyō was widely performed in Edo, and it was published after the Hachidayu troupe had expanded its influence.

In this old jōruri, it must necessarily be acknowledged that some dramatization and exaggeration have been added to the legend.

II

The key points of the Aigo-no-Waka legend enumerated in Volume 17 of *Ōmi Yochi Shiryaku* (Brief Topographical Records of Ōmi) are as follows:

The stepmother's slander (i).
Aigo-no-Waka's flight (ro).
The compassion of Kojirō the leather craftsman (ha).
Daidōji Tahata no Suke’s millet rice (ni).
Meeting with So Ajari (ho).
The incident concerning peaches and hemp (he).
Teshira no Saru (to).
Suicide at Kirifuri Waterfall (chi).
Kojirō was Karasaki, Tahata the Zeze Tahata Shrine, and Aigo-no-Waka manifested as Hiyoshi Ōmiya (ri).

These are the enumerated points marked with (ri). In the *sekkyō* version among these, entry (ha) merely refers to "a craftsman" without transmitting any name. In (ni), the Daidōji surname likewise does not appear. Entry (ho) regarding So Ajari should be understood as an abbreviated phrasing meaning "[someone] went to meet him." (chi) Kirifuri indicates Kirifuri—that is, Hiryū Waterfall. As for (ri), there exists no account of Kojirō and Tahata no Suke's reincarnation.

However, whether referring to the leather craftsman simply as “craftsman” existed prior to *sekkyō* remains doubtful. One might argue that names were omitted because this was a legend already known to all—as seen in Tahata no Suke’s missing surname—though such reasoning cannot be fully substantiated. Moreover, the Yochi Shiryaku describes Kojirō as having made what appears to be a sodomitical proposition to Aigo-no-Waka. In *Onna Fude Hajime*, a man named Sekidera Hannai—who harbored feelings for Aigo-no-Waka—is depicted, with his wife scheming to explain their circumstances to him and receive a ceremonial cup. It may be that *sekkyō* omitted this particular element.

However, it is suspected that the name Kojirō may have been adopted from names such as Kyō no Kojirō (the different-father name of the Soga brothers) under the influence of the *Sukeroku Kyōgen*. This, though the order here is reversed, is considered to have followed the same pathway by which the name Tsukishoyo entered the *Soga Kyōgen*. As for the Daidōji surname in entry (ni), since it generally appears in the painting *Hanazono Aigo Sakura* and subsequent Aigo tales, it cannot be considered to have suddenly emerged after the *sekkyō* version. As for the reincarnation theory in entry (ri), even in *sekkyō*, since they deliberately had the craftsman couple die at Karasaki, it is not without traces; it would be more appropriate to regard this as an oversight in *sekkyō*.

Therefore, this *sekkyō* appears to have established an extremely meticulous compositional design in its first half, but after Aigo-no-Waka’s flight, as it recounts matters already known to all, it seems to have confined itself to narrating only the barest outline.
The fact that they narrated the matter of the old woman of Anō with phrases like “Momono Nikō saw this” likely reveals the underlying circumstances between them.
Therefore, it would be safe to conclude that while the latter half remains almost entirely faithful to the legend, the first half—though not entirely fictional—was composed following the patterns of old *jōruri*.

It appears that the friend of the author of *Yochi Shiryaku* (Brief Topographical Records) considered the Aigo-no-Waka legend to be an adaptation of *Aki no Yo no Nagamonogatari* (The Long Tale of Autumn Nights), while Mr. Shida Yoshihide seems to have regarded it as one of the Sumida River legends that drew threads from *Nagamonogatari* (*Kyōdo Kenkyū* 1.3).
The points shared between *Nagamonogatari* and this folktale are:

Umechika (*Nagamonogatari*) and Aigo both being children of court nobles (i).
The connection to Mount Hiei (ro).
Risshi Keikai and the craftsman (ha).
Leaving one’s residence to meet someone at Mount Hiei (ni).
The Pine of Karasaki serving as the main background (ho).
Drowning (he).
Clothes-hanging (to).

Among these several points, there were also aspects where they did not resemble one another. These were:

The crucial elements of “the Pine’s Divine Pact” and “the Peach and Hemp Curses” were present in this one yet absent in that one (chi).
The presence of same-sex love being made a central issue in one and its absence in the other (ri).
The presence or absence of stepchild abuse (nu).
This [work] was a Buddhist origin tale (honji-mono), while that [work] should be considered a type of tale of religious awakening (ru).
That [work] had the conflict between Enryaku-ji (Tendai school) and Mii-dera (Jimon faction) as its background, whereas this [work] was unrelated to Mii-dera (wo).

such as these.
Nagamonogatari was entirely a dramatized version of the relationship between Keiso of Nantani—a follower of the Chishō sect—and Ryōshin, the head priest of Saitani (as recorded in Gonshin-shō).
Moreover, when compared to Sumidagawa’s Umechika, the four points—(i), (he), (to), and wandering (wa)—resembled one another, merely evoking that the craftsman and human trafficker occupied somewhat analogous narrative roles.

This legend was woven from four narrative threads: stepchild abuse tales perfected from the early Kamakura to Muromachi periods—*Ochikubo Monogatari* being undoubtedly an early Kamakura work—(nu); Buddhist origin tales dominant from Muromachi to early Edo periods (ru); ritual suicide and spiritual resolution stories that emerged in Muromachi and diversified in Edo (wo); and children’s tales that became prominent in Muromachi (ka). Thus, we may conclude that the core components of this legend had already taken shape by the early Tokugawa period.
However, compared to creative works like *Nagamonogatari*, it was curious that [this legend] conversely harbored an extremely ancient seed.

It was evident that two narrative forms could be discerned: the Divine Pact (chi), fused with Ōmiya Gongen’s origins, and the Noble Exile (ka). The process of Hiyoshi Ōmiya’s enshrinement was unanimously narrated in the same sequence by many texts despite differences in detail, though among these, *Gonshin-shō*’s account most closely resembled a portion of the Aigo folktale.

This deity deigned to manifest in Sakamoto during Emperor Tenji’s reign, but at Yatsurugi in Ōtsu, they grew weary, and even walking on foot became arduous.
Therefore, they boarded Tanaka Tsuneyo’s fishing boat from Ōtsu Nishiura and deigned to arrive at Shiga Karasaki.
In the boat, Tsuneyo presented the millet rice he had prepared.
At the residence of Kotomi-dono Ushimaru in Karasaki, he declared, “I am a deity,” but when asked to show proof, he ascended to the top of a pine tree while still aboard the sacred boat (chi).

In addition to Tsuneyo becoming the Tanaka Deity and Ushimaru the Yamasue Deity (as recorded in *Yōten-ki* and *Sannō Rishō-ki*), *Yōten-ki* also transmits a form where the divine staff underwent transmogrification (chi′).
(chi) and (chi′) merged to form a single divine pact structure, while (ka) corresponded to the hardships endured until landing at Karasaki.

Among folktales of this kind equipped with both (chi) and (ka), the one that appeared simplest in form was likely the exile tale of Emperor Kiyomihara.
The Emperor departed Yoshino and reached Tawara Village in the depths of Uji, where villagers—moved by compassion—buried roasted and boiled chestnuts in the rocky terrain beside the mountain. He made a divine pact: “If my own fortunes should prosper, let these chestnuts sprout forth.” And so the chestnuts sprouted.
The chestnuts of Tawara presented to the imperial court were indeed the vestiges of this, with traces of that time faintly remaining.
The Emperor then departed for Shima, hurried to Mino, and was rescued by a cloth-washing woman—an incarnation of Fuwa Myōjin—at Sumokawa River (*Uji Shūi*).

It was well known that during Hiyoshi Sannō’s boat festival, when the deity’s procession arrived at Zeze, millet rice would be offered; however, this folktale stated that its origin lay in Tahata no Suke—who had given millet rice to Aigo-no-Waka—being from Awazu. Yet this account was another variation of the tale concerning Tsuneyo—the Tanaka Deity—and moreover, this Zeze Tanaka Shrine was said to have enshrined Tahata no Suke under the alternate name Tahata Shrine (Yochi Shiryaku). There was also a tradition that, much as during Emperor Tenmu’s exile, it had been the villagers of Awazu who made the offering (Yochi Shiryaku).

It is thought that since Yamashiro’s Tsuzuki District extends as far as Tawara, bordering Ōmi’s Kurita District, the Tawara chestnut legend either traveled up the Seta River into Ōmi or was narrated as a tale of wandering along the path from Tawara (Awazu) to Shima—one of these two possibilities.
The profound connection between the Tawara chestnut story and the Aigo folktale lies not only in aspects beyond noble exile—such as how the divine pact clause is bifurcated into both the Pine’s Divine Pact and the Peach-Hemp Curse in Aigo-no-Waka’s narrative—but also in how the surnames Araki and Daidōji of this tale’s principal figures, Saemon and Tahata no Suke, cannot be considered products of mere coincidence.
Even if we assume that the person who presented chestnuts to Tenmu was named Tahata no Suke, the matter of Daidōji remains unresolved.

Here, the investigation into Ise Shinkurō Nagauji's lineage provided a ray of light.
Nagauji's ancestral home was said to be both Yamato and Uji.
His ancestor Moritsugu "possessed an innate mastery of craftsmanship."
At that time, as a disciple of Ōtsubo Dōzen, he transmitted the exquisite craftsmanship of saddles and stirrups.
The house of Ise no Kami specialized in this craftsmanship from this point onward.
Thus it came to be that after Nagauji became a rōnin, among the trusted retainers who accompanied him to the eastern provinces were six masterless samurai: Yamanaka, Tada, Arakawa, Satake, Araki Hyōgo-no-kami, and Daidōji Tarō (as recorded in *Hōjō Godaiki*).
Moreover, both Araki and Daidōji were place names in Tawara Village.

One could imagine that the Tenmu Exile Narrative had spread from Tawara to Ōmi Province. Considering these place names, the fact that the Later Hōjō clan—who may be regarded as having held Uji's Tawara as their ancestral home—were a lineage of horse gear craftsmen indicated a point of convergence for this seemingly abrupt character, even if Kojirō the Craftsman in the Aigo Folktale was a variation of Kotomi-dono Ushimaru. This also suggested that the Tawara Chestnut Folktale showed traces of having converged with the Aigo Folktale.

III

Even a surface reading of the *sekkyō* narrative suggests *eta* participation in the Sannō Festival, though in antiquity it was likely not communities along Kyoto's riverbanks but villages downstream of the Seta River that had been involved.
This folktale undeniably maintains profound connections, both direct and indirect.

The form where the craftsman prepared a seat for the young lord atop a mortar resembled Asakusa Kannon's manifestation account at Miyatogawa, but regardless, this indisputably demonstrated that outcasts had performed crucial roles in festivals.
Furthermore, evidence that "craftsman" had long been interpreted specifically as horse gear artisans could be seen in *Meika Kachidoki*, which established characters like Kojirō the Craftsman, Kuratsukuri Mokusaku, and his daughter O-Tame.

The name Tahata no Suke is rather peculiar, but from the Muromachi to Edo periods, names containing the suffix *suke* often had strange qualities, particularly in tales and plays. Examples include Kuzu no Konnosuke, Inari no Suke, and Meno no Suke; however, the festival headmen of the Sannō Festival in Zeze were referred to by names such as Ōmi no Suke and Awazu no Suke. Such associations in this direction were probably somewhat at work.

The Tanaka Sannō Shrine—also known as Tahata Shrine—which enshrines Tahata no Suke, is undoubtedly the Tsuneyo Shrine associated with the same millet legend. It is located in Kawarahama, Nakamura Village near Zeze, but in antiquity was situated within the boundaries of a residence called Kameya in that area. The family was the Horike clan—and Horike was a branch of the Sasaki clan (*Shiryaku*), it is said—but it is possible that the name used by Kameya’s proprietor when becoming the festival’s headman was Tahata no Suke.

From the relationship between Enryaku-ji and Mii-dera temples and the fact that Ōtomo Muraji’s ancestral home was said to be there, it seems there was a period when Sannō was identified with Emperor Tenmu and Shinra Myōjin with Prince Ōtomo.
The matter of what is called the Peach’s Nikō (Nun Princess?) follows the pattern of Ishiimo folktales (see Tamura’s report in *Dozoku to Densetsu* Vol. 1-1), and the presence of the greasy peach story in Kanaō—also called Anō—does not feel like mere coincidence but rather suggests some underlying connection.

Generally, Ishiimo folktales often accompanied biographies of religious figures, but in antiquity, they were tales in the Fuji-Tsukuba style that contrasted greed and compassion.
The Ishiimo folktales were those that lost the virtuous half, and there were also cases where only the virtuous part became separated without forming a contrast.
Because religious figures were considered to be those who commanded spirits, the notion of spiritual vengeance would have transformed into Ishiimo folktales.
Curses, which were anciently considered manifestations of language spirits, came to be conceptualized as servitor spirits—a shift largely propelled by the doctrinal influences of Onmyōdō’s professional deities and Buddhism’s Dharma-protecting celestial youths and acolyte guardians.
The activities of servitor spirits and Dharma protectors may have been convenient for their summoners, but they often caused trouble for others.
The summoner’s jealousy and evil eye prompted the activities of servitor spirits.
The one who bestowed the name “Dharma-protecting acolyte” was Otsu Hō.
There were Dharma protectors of the same name for both Dengyō Daishi and Shōkū Shōnin.
The [Dharma protector] transferred from Shōkū to his nephew Kōkei of Hiei was also referred to as Otsuwaka.
The Nun Dharma Protector of Mii-dera had also become Kishimojin.
Since it was a female Dharma protector deity, this was why it was said so; or perhaps, like “Otsu,” that had been its name.
The “Ai” in the young lord’s name could also be interpreted as a Dharma protector’s appellation; one might consider that “Go” or “Waka” indicated his identity as such a protector.
If Aigo-no-Waka was considered a transformation of a Dharma-protecting acolyte, then the meaning of the peach and hemp curse became fully realized.

It appears that Mr. Shida Yoshihide had observed this curse to relate to Mount Hiei’s unfaithful persimmons. When Kōkei first ascended Mount Hiei at a place called Mizunomi or Fumigaki, he posed a childish quibble: “What is this ‘unfaithful persimmon’ that bears fruit yet...?” At this site associated with anecdotes where he questioned, “Why call it ‘water-drinking’ when one drinks hot water?”—and engaged in such playful logic—there appeared no indication that unfaithful persimmons resulted from Kōkei’s curse.

However, considering how Otsuwaka had been transferred from Shōkū’s influence through multiple transformations, one might posit a connection between Aigo and Kōkei. Among numerous conundrum dialogues provided by Kawamura Yōju (actually Mr. Yanagita Kunio) in *Kyōdo Kenkyū* Vol. 4-7—including the tale at Rikuzen Akanuma Chōrōzaka where Matsushita Dōji, who left Saigyō speechless, was said to embody Sannō Gongen—if even this story retains traces of primordial Sannō worship, ties to earlier traditions deepen. Yet establishing direct links between Aigo and Kōkei remains untenable based on scattered parallels alone.

Lady Kumoi, the stepmother, already embodied the character of Tamate Gozen from *Gappō ga Tsuji*; thus, she was not a purely villainous figure like those in *Onna Hisshoki*, but rather a woman of poignant sensibilities who composed love letters reminiscent of *Usuyuki Monogatari*.
In contrast to the stepmothers of Chūjō-hime and Shintokumaru—who belonged to a different archetype—this seemed to incorporate a new creative element: a grudge born of love.

Teshirō the Monkey occupied a fairly significant position in later creative adaptations, yet within *sekkyō* narratives he was relegated to an exceedingly minor role. Outside of animal gratitude folktales, it appeared merely to show the reason for becoming Sannō’s emissary. The appearance of such animals in this folktale was of course related to Hiyoshi’s Saru-beya (Monkey Hall), and it was thought there existed a belief deeming monkeys with only their wrists white as sacred monkeys. In Yamamba Kyōgen plays as well, there existed works that featured Teshirō the Monkey. Even when examining such theater prints today, nothing distinctive appears about their hands. Ultimately there was no doubt it possessed a distinct etymology.

In ancient times, there existed an administrative group called tedaibe; this was equivalent to the tenagashoku position in later shrines, and it appears they functioned as the very hands of the deity. Only the term *Teshirō* remained—in an age when its true meaning had been forgotten—and people came to perceive Sannō’s emissary monkey as *Teshirō*, likely also contemplating the existence of such a distinctly mystical breed. However, it is thought that the aforementioned belief existed as well. The Teshirō the Monkey that appears in the aforementioned Yamamba Kyōgen plays also has no connection to the tale of Aigo-no-Waka; I have only seen Edo-period play illustrations depicting Teshirō the Monkey in Yamamba Kyōgen plays, and no other materials can be found.

A hellish spirit returning by assuming the carcass of a weasel constituted a tale of karmic causality, yet it preserved characteristics distinctive to *sekkyō*. Moreover, hanging Aigo from a cherry tree thrust the torture common to *sekkyō* narratives into this context, but by employing a divine substitute, it broke from the usual pattern of escape.

The episode where the craftsman turned back midway due to a prohibition notice; where his uncle, Venerable So Ajari, grew suspicious and refused an audience; and where one who had come from afar was sent away—all these elements resonated with the tale of Ishido-maru’s mother and father within the same *sekkyō* tradition. However, only in So Ajari’s suspicion of tengu interference did [the story] bear some resemblance to longer narratives—a superficial similarity at best, for neither the crucial mountain ascetic nor stone chamber materialized. What held greater significance than this was how, unlike in Kariyasu’s tale, [they] descended the mountain in vain not through intent but due to irreconcilable discrepancies.

Child tales invariably drew upon plots from spousal rivalry folktales—a type where beautiful women met suicidal ends—so that even when no competitor existed, they typically failed to reach peaceful resolutions, with drowning being the frequent means of self-destruction. Tales of children drowning seemed to be common features at Kōya and other major temples. In the Eshima no Kogafuchi legend, even the opposing monk ended up following suit; however, generally speaking, these tales of spiritual awakening depicted the active man either awakening to faith or resolutely taking monastic vows. The Craftsman Couple’s death also could not be considered a suicide following another’s death. Rather, it had become a tale of mass suicides and the reincarnation of the deceased, as previously mentioned.

Other forms such as treasure contests and vow-born children are not unique to the Aigo folktales; thus, I shall refrain from discussing them here. The notion that the pine branch Aigo-no-Waka planted transformed into the Single Pine of Karasaki—while the version in *Onna Hisshoki*, which states that a pine-branch staff was planted by one who came afterward, preserves the older form in greater detail—directly relates to the legend recorded in *Yōtenki*: that the ancestors of the Kotomidono family erected a staff left behind by the Hiyoshi deity, which then underwent transformation. It further incorporates lineages such as Kitano’s Ichiyamatsubara and Ikimatsubara.

IV

Examining the *jōruri*, scripts, novels, and other works that have this *sekkyō* narrative at their core.
Those I have read through and those I know only by name are:

*Aigo-no-Waka* (Kakudayū’s Authorized Text); *Karasaki’s Lone Pine* (Kaga Disciple Tomatsu Satsuma’s Authorized Text); *Aigo-no-Waka Miyako Fuji* (Genroku 6 [1693], New Year at Takemoto-za Theater).
*Tatsumatsu Kōsuke’s Aigo-no-Waka Todokoro-bako* (Ki no Kaion); *Aigo-no-Waka* (Hōei 5 [1708], New Year; Tenmanya Hachidayū’s authorized text); *Hanadate Aigo-zakura* (also called *Hanadate Taihei Aigo*).
Shōtoku 3 [1713], April.
Yamamura-za) *Aigo-no-Waka: Famous Poems and Battle Cries* (Hōreki 3 [1753], May.
Takemoto-za.
Hanji, Shōraku et al.) *Shinoda Kotarō Yotsugi Kagan* (Hōreki 3 [1753], July.
Nakamura-za’s *Sukeroku Kyōgen*.
(It can be inferred from critical records that Aigo had been interwoven [within them]) *Sarudenshi* (Bunka 5 [1808].
Koeda Shigesaku
(Yomihon)

Additionally, it was thought that most Sukeroku Kyōgen works predating the Tenmei era generally included Aigo-no-Waka. I also recall that there existed another type of play titled “○○○ Aigo-no-Waka and the Young Pine,” distinct from *Sukeroku*. Beyond the five annotated types, I have yet to encounter others. However, Kakudayū’s authorized text and Satsumadayū’s *Karasaki no Hitotsu Matsu* likely bore only minor differences from the later *sekkyō* version “Aigo-no-Waka,” nor could one claim that *sekkyō-bushi* emerged chronologically later. Though Hachidayū’s authorized text may have been compiled belatedly, there remains reason to regard it as having pioneered Aigo Jōruri traditions.

It was not unreasonable to consider that Aigo-no-Waka as a Kamigata *sekkyō* narrative—prior to Tenmanya Hachidayū’s arrival in Edo and subsequent prosperity—had already been adopted by Kakudayū and Satsumadayū before the establishment of authorized texts. The fact that these authorized texts displayed a narrative style suggesting the audience already knew the story hinted at the distance between the Aigo folktales that had spread before Hachidayū and Hachidayū’s own *jōruri*; yet compared to other *jōruri* works, they still retained a more primitive quality. Moreover, works such as *Miyako Fuji* and *Todokoro-bako* were considered to show somewhat more creatively advanced elements compared to current *sekkyō* texts.

If one can trust historical records, Edo’s Sukeroku Kyōgen had incorporated Aigo-no-Waka from its very inception.
While Edo’s Sukeroku Kyōgen clearly originated from the Agemaki-Sukeroku double suicide tradition of Osaka, it would be erroneous to assume that even the earliest *Aigo Sakura* adaptation prioritized roughhouse-style brawler protagonists like modern versions do. A text predating the Kyōhō era—provisionally titled *Record of Agemaki-Sukeroku Kyōgen* in the Ueno Library collection and styled after black-covered books—appears to have transmitted Sukeroku Kyōgen’s authentic narrative core through a plotline closer to the Kamigata-style Agemaki-Sukeroku double suicide.

The fundamental plot of this Edo Sukeroku Kyōgen remained unclear, and there were differing opinions regarding its characters; however, it was certain that Agemaki, Sukeroku, and Shinbei the Sake Seller had appeared. As seen in the Torii painting preserved in *Kane no Kibai*, Tahata no Suke later became Kairō, and Shinbei the Sake Seller became Araki Saemon. The illustration depicted a rooftop confrontation scene; considering the high-hung lanterns visible under the eaves bearing names like “Izumiya in Edo-chō” and “Tsutaya in the Third District,” the setting was Yoshiwara. Kairō and Shinbei pulled against each other on both ends of a sword concealed in what appeared to be a sake carrier’s pole. This could be seen as both leading actors competing to kill the antagonist first, or perhaps as one being impulsive while the other restrained him. The fact that neither of the two men played an antagonist role could be discerned from Kairō being portrayed by Danjūrō and the sake seller by Ikushima Shingorō. If viewed as the two leading roles joining forces to defeat the enemy, the path by which they transformed into Gorō and Jūrō of the later *Yukari Edo Zakura* could be readily understood.

Indeed, in works such as the second Sukeroku play titled *Shikirei Wazōga* and those that followed, Sukeroku came to incorporate elements of the Soga narrative and Aigo-no-Waka’s tale; in many cases, it appeared that these three plotlines had become intricately intertwined.
It seemed that in the second and third iterations—which had come to incorporate the Soga narrative—they gradually recalled the original Aigo-no-Waka as well, resulting in their coexistence.
Why did Aigo-no-Waka—who had no connection whatsoever—intrude into *Aigo Sakura*?
I imagine there must have been a reason—perhaps that the third year of Shōtoku (1713) was a commemorative year for Edo’s Sannō Hie Shrine.

If this play is to be considered a revenge tale as handed down, then who did the enemy kill?
Minister Kiyohira?
Aigo?

When examining the illustration from the later ※(child + exhaust) *Aigo* critical records, one sees Kudō and Yahata no Suke—perhaps conflated with Hachiman Saburō and Tahata no Suke? Kudō Ashigaru Yahata no Suke—identified as the Demon King—was depicted hoisting Lord Aigo onto a cherry tree and torturing him there. As a child actor’s signature role, Aigo may have been comparatively overlooked. Alternatively, this might have formed the origin of Sukeroku’s iconic “Stinks! Stinks!” rebuke—through a narrative conceit portraying Aigo’s killer as a Shinobu no Sōta-esque artisan Kojirō, later conflated with Hige Ishyū.

As for Tomokirimaru—the sword that had persistently troubled later iterations of Gorō no Sukeroku—was it portrayed in *Aigo Sakura* as a bladed greatsword? In an Edo brimming with knowledgeable researchers who concocted figures like Furu-teya Hachirōbei of Osaka and Kamiya Jihei into works such as *Gin Neko Otsuma* and *Tsukudajima Shinjū*—then conversely argued that even abbreviated names like Furu-hachi and Kami-ji had separate existences in Edo—theories positing their real-world existence—such as those surrounding Sukeroku and Ishyū—were all utter fabrications.

In *Famous Poems and Battle Cries*, there existed the feud between the Nijō Kurōdo and Kosebe Shōji families; Takashina Danjō, who sought advancement by stealing both families’ treasures; the minor antagonists employed in this scheme, Ontake Aku Gorō; and as loyal retainers—Tahata Sanaenosuke for the Nijō family and Araki Saemon, former vassal of the Kosebe family. Additionally, there was Aigo’s lover—the daughter of Kosebe—and her brother, who was simultaneously the lover of his sister, forming two pairs: Romeo and Juliet.

Among the women serving in Aigo-no-Waka’s household was Tsuneyo—daughter of the guardian of Ōtsu Sakamoto Sarudō, born in Anō and versed in handling monkeys—who became the wife of Sanaenosuke. The bladed greatsword was a treasure of the Nijō family, while the heavenly Chinese-style saddle remained a valued heirloom of the Kosebe family, thus divided between both houses. There were also figures such as Kurauchi Mokuzaku, likely ones who displayed crafted perforations.

In Tsuneyo’s ancestral home of Anō, Sanaenosuke and Tsuneyo had resided. After Sanaenosuke visited Venerable So Ajari and ascended Mount Hiei, Aigo-no-Waka found himself pursued by peasants named Kohee and Kusuke under accusations of peach theft. To save him, Tsuneyo adopted the demeanor of one possessed by a fox.

Should fingers pry, the grudge clings like arrowroot leaves—even now in Shinoda, words of resentment.

Kohee, listen!
“Even if hemp be sown, let it never become ramie.”
“Anō Village’s Kusuke—a curse upon him.”
“…Is it for peaches that I abandon my life?”
“Even if I die, even if these peach blossoms bloom, never bear fruit.”
“As long as Anō Village endures,” he cursed— “even the trees that have spat these words of malice may yet harbor hearts.”

So it is written. Additionally, episodes such as the white-handed monkey being gifted to the young lord by his lover and Aigo being rescued from peril at Karasaki Pine appear to draw from the original prototype.

“Aigo Soga” was likely older than its predecessor.
As its name suggests, it appears to have developed from *Aigo Sakura* toward *Yukari Edo Zakura*.
Though three versions of the Aigo narrative were published simultaneously in the first month of Kyōhō 20 [1735], might not Waseda Library’s catalog have erred in assigning an earlier publication date to the Kanahira version of *Aigo*?
The chronicle version was entirely a reprint of the Hachimonjiya edition; though bearing the era date Kyōhō 20, First Month [1735], it had likely been published considerably later.

As Hachimonjiya—the publisher behind works like *Onna Fudehajime* and *Narukami Fudōzakura*—it plainly revealed traces of synthesizing and adapting Aigo’s scripts and novels.

In its preface,

The rumors of Aigo-no-Waka among the masses—a horse that had long carried the rhythm of the shamisen through the ages; a bladed greatsword in a Chinese-style saddle box that remained unstained by blood; the inner pillar of the house that repelled villains—all found their foundation in an immovable single pine standing firm-rooted.
Preserving Shiga’s splendid garden of tales from antiquity to the present day, they selected one from among the five sekkyō narratives and newly compiled five volumes of kyōgen plays, et cetera.

It appeared to be so, but this was a constructed work that had also incorporated forms from post-sekkyō narratives.
Moreover, whether Edo’s Sukeroku exerted any influence remained difficult to determine.
However, that Tahata no Suke bore the surname Dōjōji might have drawn inspiration from hints in *Aigo Sakura*.

Since this book seemed to have served as a signpost that transformed later Aigo folktales, I will now explain it in some detail.
The Nijō family’s treasures included a bladed greatsword, a descending celestial Chinese-style saddle, and what was called the True Whip.
The Empress’s affliction had come to be referred to as Emperor Saga’s demise.
The stepmother was named Lady Sakurai; she was the sister of Fujiwara no Nakonari and had remarried into the Nijō family. During her exile, she had entrusted her daughter Komatsu-hime to someone.
Among the retainers were figures such as Araki Saemon no Jō as chief retainer; Dōjōji Tahata no Suke—who had resigned his position as regent and now resided in Anō, Ōmi Province—along with his wife Fuji; their firstborn, the white-handed monkey; Daigaku Aku Gorō, the stepmother’s confidant; and Ofude, orphaned child of a former vassal.
The tale of Ofude—who, upon learning of her household’s peril, had renamed herself Komatsu-hime, infiltrated the Nijō family, aided Aigo, and prevented the two treasures from falling into evil hands—served as the catalyst for the heroine Ofude in *Hiragana Seisuiki*, which appeared not long after.

Tahata no Suke had his wife make their eldest child Teshira perform a dance to inform the young lord of his household's peril—a direct replication of the "Pine Branch" and "Tsuneyo’s Monkey Handling" segments from Act I of Famous Poems and Battle Cries. Furthermore, the scene where Araki Saemon encountered and quarreled with someone at the brothel in Shibauramachi might have been influenced by Aigo Sakura. The True Whip treasured by courtesan Hanazono was presumably a variation of the “True Sakaki” erected at the first torii during the Fourth Shrine Festival. When Aigo fled his home, the weasel that came to gnaw through the ropes had been brought by his mother’s spirit from the sekkyō narrative. Anō’s wet nurse was Old Kumade, and the blind daughter’s child lived with Komatsu-hime. The episode where Aigo ate the peaches from his house and hid in the hemp field was also included as it occurred.

The episode where Aigo planted the pine branch that had followed him to Karasaki Beach transcended sekkyō and directly engaged with Hiyoshi's origin myths. The vowed oracle of that time declared:

"Let this pine—a single trunk, a single leaf, roots not reaching toward the capital—become Aigo's sacred emblem at Shiga Karasaki's solitary pine."

So it was recorded. Then, hanging a kosode upon that pine tree, he cast himself into the lake waters. What corresponded to Saikū Kojirō here became Sekidera Hannai. Those who pursued Aigo and committed suicide represented the 108 followers from the sekkyō narrative.

*The Divine Monkey Chronicle* took on strong characteristics of *yomihon*. Lady Sakurai's infatuation with Aigo remained unchanged from the *sekkyō* narrative. The contact between Teshira and Aigo began when they rescued a monkey seized by an eagle, whereupon the parent and child monkeys transformed into humans to repay the young lord. In *Onna Fudehajime*, Tahata no Suke's role had been changed to Hata Kurodo, protector of the child born to Nakamaro and Lady Sakurai. The saddle and sword had their names altered to Ayamaru no Tachi and Tōyama no Kagami, coming to be regarded as treasures that the virtuous Komatsu seized after killing Shiga Roku (Kurodo) and dedicated to the Nijō family.

Among those mentioned above, *Famous Poems and Battle Cries* was a rather renowned jōruri piece. Only its "Mountain Act"—which incorporated En no Gyōja, Kōbō Daishi’s mother, and Kariya—was still occasionally performed to this day.
The fact that even in *Ruri Tengu* both the journey section and this act had received commentary showed that, for all its flaws as a foolish work, it had been rather well-received.

The fact that there exists something called 'aigo' in theatrical wigs is thought to have originated around this juncture, but *The Monkey Tales* are entirely Jichasen.

At the time when Ōmi Yochi Shiryaku was compiled, the Aigo folktales had preserved older forms predating sekkyō while simultaneously incorporating various later narratives that had been embellished with creative adaptations; attempting to extract a single coherent story from such an extremely convoluted mass of tales must have been difficult.
Hence the Nagamonogatari.
Disregarding the numerous elements from before and after, they solely lamented the chaotic intermingling within rustic folk beliefs; however, it was a tale both considerably older and yet more recent than Mr. Samukawa had imagined.

Having ended his ill-fated life, Aigo-no-Waka—despite his obsession with leaving behind words of resentment—was ultimately reborn.
The emergence of Buddhist origin tales dates back to when goryō faith began gradually losing its influence.
The merging of noble exile folktales with Kogafuchi folktales, incorporating the multilayered origins of the Sannō Festival into a unified legend, likely occurred during an era when stepchild abuse tales, child narratives, and Buddhist origin tales had solidified their narrative foundations—a time when dozens or hundreds of junshi ritual suicides were regarded as household honors.

The 108 ritual suicides demonstrated that—at least during the period when the Aigo-no-Waka folktales became fixed—they were newer than the *Nagamonogatari*.
The tale of a conflict arising between two great temples standing side by side nearby—centered around a single beautiful youth and leaving hundreds of warrior-monk corpses exposed—had other examples as well.
In *Nagamonogatari*, Umewaka brought about sacrifices involving many people; however, in Aigo-no-Waka’s version, this transformed into a sacrifice carrying the special significance of 108 ritual suicides.
This undoubtedly represented how the long history of conflict between Enryaku-ji and Onjō-ji was revived in transformed guise as a tale of many attaining Buddhahood—layered upon a narrative about a beautiful youth unrelated to any romantic entanglements.
If one were to posit a connection between *Nagamonogatari* and the point at which a gruesome tale transformed into an enlightened *kudokutan* (merit narrative), there might indeed be room to consider it so; however, this alone served merely as corroborative evidence—and it remained impossible to conclusively assert that Aigo and Umewaka were siblings of a single lineage.

Anō was the old domain of the Anahobe no Omi and Anō Muraji clans.
It may be considered that the Anahobe clan had some connection to Emperor Ankō (安康).
Thus, even if the exile tales of Princes Ōke and Woke—who regarded Emperor Ankō as their uncle—have been transmitted westward from the capital, when considering that Kamoyano in Gamō District was a place deeply connected to the wanderings of these two princes, it seems plausible that through Emperor Ankō (the two princes) and Kamoyano, this land of Anō was not unrelated to tales of noble exiles.

Another conjecture similar to the aforementioned one evoked the form of ancient storytelling.
This was the notion that the Anahobe clan’s storytelling might have passed down the tale of a noble who cursed fruits.