The Samurai and the Long-Nosed Devils Read Online Free PDF Page A

that men and women speak differently here. In our language we don’t make a distinction.”
    This was added proof that the Portuguese were a strange and barbaric people, thought Matsuzo as he took his first close look at the foreigner. The man’s most prominent feature, of course, was his nose. Not only did it jut out from his face to an extraordinary degree, but the nostrils were correspondingly large. Matsuzo wondered what would happen if the foreigner caught cold and his nose started to run. He might have to catch the catarrh with a basin! Next to the nose, the strangest feature was the eyes. At least they were a normal brown color, although Matsuzo had heard that some foreigners had gray or even blue eyes. They were, however, very round and set so deeply that almost half of the eyelids were hidden. Altogether it was a very craggy face, with prominent protuberances and deep indentations. With his even and white teeth, the foreigner did have a pleasant smile, and the smile made him look very friendly and human.
    As they entered the gate of the foreigners’ residence, the Portuguese said, “The name of our priest is Father Luis, and I am called Pedro. Do you mind if we don’t bother with family names? Japanese surnames sound all alike to me, and I suspect that ours are just as confusing for you.”
    â€œYou’re probably right,” said Zenta. “ ‘Pedro’ and ‘Father Luis’ are bad enough. I’m sure that my tongue will get permanently twisted from your family names.”
    â€œI have heard that not everyone here has a family name,” said Pedro. “Do you gentlemen have any?”
    The blood rose in Matsuzo’s face, but before he could make an angry reply, Zenta hastened to say, “The peasants in our country don’t possess surnames, but we samurai have them. For everyday, however, our given names are enough. I’m called Zenta, and this is Matsuzo.”
    â€œIn any case we can’t tell you our real names,” said Matsuzo primly. “Most ronin employ pseudonyms because they might find themselves in situations that could bring dishonor to their families.”
    Pedro grinned. “I suspect that I’ve just committed another social blunder. People here seem to get very upset about these things.”
    â€œIn our country social blunders can produce violent or even fatal consequences,” said Zenta. “We’d better make it part of our guard duties to see that you don’t make too many more of them.”
    â€œAt least I’ve learned this much about your etiquette,” said Pedro, “that one of the first acts of hospitality is to offer people a bath. After we’ve seen Father Luis, let me order a bath and have a room made ready for you.”
    The residence of the Portuguese, Matsuzo was relieved to find, was an ordinary upperclass house. Removing their shoes, the three men stepped up to a wooden veranda that ran along the outside of the house. Pedro pushed open a sliding door that led them through a reception hall that would not have disgraced the castle of some petty provincial warlord.
    The floor was covered with closely fitting tatami mats bordered with brocade, and the exposed beams of the room were of rare and costly wood. Tall, built-in cupboards on one side of the room had sliding doors painted by artists. However, where a normal room would have an alcove for displaying a flower arrangement, a scroll painting or other artistic work, there was instead a raised platform, covered with a richly embroidered tapestry. On the top were some golden vessels of various shapes. Matsuzo guessed that they were used in ceremonies of the Christian religion.
    Leaving the reception hall, the three men passed through a corridor, their feet gliding smoothly on the polished wooden floor. Through a half open door Matsuzo caught sight of a garden landscaped with shrubs, trees, sand and moss. In short, the house looked