discovered that her wife’s loyal maidservant also knew of his crimes, and he accused her of theft of a jade piece, which she denied. The poor creature threw herself at his feet and begged for mercy, but the samurai sneered at her groveling form. The samurai judged her without pity to her cry for grace; he inflicted his manner of punishment, which was to kill her by his own sword, thus getting rid of the only witness.
Then he nailed the mutilated bodies of his wife and her maidservant onto a door and threw them in the nearby river that flows into the endless seas of the realm of Shio-Zuchi, the god of the tides. Their silent cries could only be heard by gods; cries, not of revenge, but of a just reward for the act committed by Yotsu-ya.
The samurai believed that his troubles were over, and he began to make preparations for his wedding with his neighbor’s granddaughter. It was a fine night for Yotsu-ya; a new and lovely bride and her richly endowed dowry were in offering. The festivities began, but when he approached the bride and lifted the veil, the terrifying visage of Oiwa was revealed. Yotsu-ya was terrified at the sight and drew his sword and beheaded her; and in a fit of horror he realized that he had killed his bride-to-be.
Horrified by the deed, Yotsu-ya, turned to the grandfather and tried to explain, but he only saw the ghostly spirit of Oiwa and again he cut off the head with his sword. The samurai was terrified and that wherever he turned he saw the disfigured face of his wife. He was gripped in terror and he ran like a demented soul, trying to flee from the haunting.
Yotsu-ya realized that there was no end to the sight of the ghost of Oiwa. He saw her ghostly face in the lanterns swaying in the breeze, on