# Botchan, Chapter 10

坊っちゃん · Natsume Sōseki · Botchan

Source: https://1732studios.com/books/botchan/ch10. Data: https://1732studios.com/books/botchan/ch10.json. Audio: https://audio.1732studios.com/botchan/<line id>.m4a.


祝勝会で学校はお休みだ。  
School was closed for the victory celebration.
練兵場で式があるというので、狸は生徒を引率して参列しなくてはならない。  
Since there was to be a ceremony at the drill ground, the Badger had to lead the students there and attend.
> Obligation: なくてはならない: «なくてはならない» — literally 'if [X] doesn't happen, it won't do' — is the standard way to say 'must / have to'. It stacks a negative conditional («なくては») onto a negative evaluation («ならない»), a double-negative construction that reads as strongly affirmative.
おれも職員の一人としていっしょにくっついて行くんだ。  
I had to tag along too, as one of the staff.
町へ出ると日の丸だらけで、まぼしいくらいである。  
Out in the town it was covered in Japanese flags, dazzling enough to blind you.
学校の生徒は八百人もあるのだから、体操の教師が隊伍を整えて、一組一組の間を少しずつ明けて、それへ職員が一人か二人ずつ監督として割り込む仕掛けである。  
The school had as many as eight hundred students, so the gym teacher lined them up in ranks, leaving a small gap between each group, and into each gap one or two staff members were wedged as overseers.
仕掛だけはすこぶる巧妙なものだが、実際はすこぶる不手際である。  
The scheme itself was clever enough, but in practice it was a thorough mess.
> すこぶる (sukoburu) — 'extremely': «すこぶる» すこぶる (sukoburu) — a somewhat literary/Meiji-era intensifier meaning 'extremely, exceedingly'. Botchan reaches for it constantly through this narration, giving his voice a mock-formal flourish even when describing something ridiculous.
生徒は小供の上に、生意気で、規律を破らなくっては生徒の体面にかかわると思ってる奴等だから、職員が幾人ついて行ったって何の役に立つもんか。  
The students were children to begin with, and cocky ones at that, the kind who think breaking the rules is a matter of pride, so what good did it do to have any number of staff walking alongside them?
命令も下さないのに勝手な軍歌をうたったり、軍歌をやめるとワーと訳もないのに鬨の声を揚げたり、まるで浪人が町内をねりあるいてるようなものだ。  
Without anyone giving the order they'd break into war songs of their own accord, and the moment they stopped singing they'd let out a battle cry for no reason at all — it was exactly like a band of masterless samurai roaming the streets.
軍歌も鬨の声も揚げない時はがやがや何か喋舌ってる。  
And when they weren't singing war songs or shouting battle cries, they were jabbering away about something.
喋舌らないでも歩けそうなもんだが、日本人はみな口から先へ生れるのだから、いくら小言を云ったって聞きっこない。  
You'd think they could walk perfectly well without talking, but the Japanese are all born mouth-first, so no amount of scolding was ever going to make them listen.
喋舌るのもただ喋舌るのではない、教師のわる口を喋舌るんだから、下等だ。  
And it wasn't just idle chatter either — they were bad-mouthing the teachers, which made it low.
おれは宿直事件で生徒を謝罪さして、まあこれならよかろうと思っていた。  
After the night-duty incident I had made the students apologize, and I'd thought, well, that should settle it.
ところが実際は大違いである。  
But in fact I was way off.
下宿の婆さんの言葉を借りて云えば、正に大違いの勘五郎である。  
To borrow my landlady's phrase, it was truly 'way off, Kangorō'.
> 大違いの勘五郎 (ōchigai no Kangorō): «大違いの勘五郎» おおちがいのかんごろう (ōchigai no Kangorō) — a landlady's colloquial pun: it tacks the common-man's name 'Kangorō' onto «大違い» ('way off the mark') purely for comic rhythm, the way English might say 'dead wrong, Jack'. It signals shitamachi/rural folk speech, not standard Japanese.
生徒があやまったのは心から後悔してあやまったのではない。  
The students hadn't apologized out of any real remorse.
ただ校長から、命令されて、形式的に頭を下げたのである。  
They had simply been ordered by the principal and bowed their heads as a formality.
> Passive れる/られる: «命令されて» = «命令する» ('to order') in the passive, «命令される» + て-form: 'having been ordered'. The passive here isn't about suffering so much as reporting the chain of authority — the students act only because the principal's order was imposed on them, not from any feeling of their own.
商人が頭ばかり下げて、狡い事をやめないのと一般で生徒も謝罪だけはするが、いたずらは決してやめるものでない。  
It was just like a merchant who bows and bows but never gives up his sharp practices — the students apologize, sure enough, but they never actually give up their mischief.
よく考えてみると世の中はみんなこの生徒のようなものから成立しているかも知れない。  
Come to think of it, the whole world might well be made up of people just like these students.
人があやまったり詫びたりするのを、真面目に受けて勘弁するのは正直過ぎる馬鹿と云うんだろう。  
Taking someone's apology seriously and actually forgiving them, I suppose, is what they call being a fool who's too honest.
あやまるのも仮りにあやまるので、勘弁するのも仮りに勘弁するのだと思ってれば差し支えない。  
As long as you understand that the apology is only a pretend apology, and the forgiveness only a pretend forgiveness, there's no harm done.
もし本当にあやまらせる気なら、本当に後悔するまで叩きつけなくてはいけない。  
If you really mean to make someone apologize, you have to knock them down until they truly feel sorry.

おれが組と組の間にはいって行くと、天麩羅だの、団子だの、と云う声が絶えずする。  
When I walked in between the ranks, voices kept muttering 'tempura' and 'dumplings.'
しかも大勢だから、誰が云うのだか分らない。  
And since there were so many of them, there was no telling who was saying it.
よし分ってもおれの事を天麩羅と云ったんじゃありません、団子と申したのじゃありません、それは先生が神経衰弱だから、ひがんで、そう聞くんだぐらい云うに極まってる。  
Even if I did find out, they'd only say, 'We never called you tempura, we never said dumplings — you're neurasthenic, sir, and your suspicious mind only makes you hear it that way,' or some such thing, that's for certain.
こんな卑劣な根性は封建時代から、養成したこの土地の習慣なんだから、いくら云って聞かしたって、教えてやったって、到底直りっこない。  
Such a low, cowardly streak is a habit this region has cultivated ever since feudal times, so no amount of telling them, no amount of teaching, was ever going to cure it.
こんな土地に一年も居ると、潔白なおれも、この真似をしなければならなく、なるかも知れない。  
Stay a full year in a place like this, and even a clean-living man like me might end up having to ape their ways.
向うでうまく言い抜けられるような手段で、おれの顔を汚すのを抛っておく、樗蒲一はない。  
There's not one chance in a thousand I'd sit still and let my face be smeared by some trick they could talk their way out of.
> 樗蒲一 (chobo-ichi) — 'not one chance in a thousand': «樗蒲一» ちょぼいち (chobo-ichi) names a simple dice-and-coin gambling game; used idiomatically as «樗蒲一はない» it means the odds are essentially nil — 'not a chance in a thousand'. A gambling idiom dropped into Botchan's blunt Tokyo speech.
向こうが人ならおれも人だ。  
If they're human, so am I.
生徒だって、子供だって、ずう体はおれより大きいや。  
Students they may be, children they may be, but their bodies are bigger than mine.
だから刑罰として何か返報をしてやらなくっては義理がわるい。  
So it would be a plain dereliction of duty not to pay them back somehow, as punishment.
ところがこっちから返報をする時分に尋常の手段で行くと、向うから逆捩を食わして来る。  
But the moment I try to pay them back by ordinary means, they twist it right back around on me.
貴様がわるいからだと云うと、初手から逃げ路が作ってある事だから滔々と弁じ立てる。  
Tell them it's their own fault, and since they've already built themselves an escape route from the start, they'll launch into a torrent of excuses.
弁じ立てておいて、自分の方を表向きだけ立派にしてそれからこっちの非を攻撃する。  
Having argued their case, they make themselves look fine on the surface and then turn around and attack my faults.
もともと返報にした事だから、こちらの弁護は向うの非が挙がらない上は弁護にならない。  
Since the whole thing started as my retaliation to begin with, my own defense counts for nothing unless their wrongdoing is proven first.
つまりは向うから手を出しておいて、世間体はこっちが仕掛けた喧嘩のように、見傚されてしまう。  
In the end, they're the ones who started it, yet to all appearances it looks as if I picked the fight.
大変な不利益だ。  
A tremendous disadvantage.
それなら向うのやるなり、愚迂多良童子を極め込んでいれば、向うはますます増長するばかり、大きく云えば世の中のためにならない。  
But if I just let them do as they please and play the perfect simpleton, they'll only grow more insolent, and broadly speaking it won't do the world any good either.
> 愚迂多良童子 — Botchan's invented mock-name: «愚迂多良童子» ぐうたらどうじ (gūtara dōji) — not a real name but Botchan's own coinage, stacking kanji for 'foolish' (愚) and 'stupid, roundabout' (迂) onto a mock child's-name ending («童子»), playing on the everyday word «ぐうたら» ('good-for-nothing, lazy'), which is normally written in kana with no standard kanji form. It's the kind of comic wordplay he invents on the spot when venting.
そこで仕方がないから、こっちも向うの筆法を用いて捕まえられないで、手の付けようのない返報をしなくてはならなくなる。  
So there's nothing for it but to use their own methods against them, and pay them back in some way so slippery no one can lay a hand on it.
そうなっては江戸っ子も駄目だ。  
But once it comes to that, even being an Edokko is no good.
> 江戸っ子 (edokko) — a true son of Edo: «江戸っ子» えどっこ (edokko) — 'a child of Edo (old Tokyo)', the stock type of a plain-spoken, quick-tempered, scheme-averse Tokyoite that Botchan repeatedly claims to be. Here he admits that even that pride has to bend once he's forced to fight dirty.
駄目だが一年もこうやられる以上は、おれも人間だから駄目でも何でもそうならなくっちゃ始末がつかない。  
No good, but if I'm going to be treated like this for a whole year, then being only human, no good or not, I'll have to become that way or there'll be no end to it.
どうしても早く東京へ帰って清といっしょになるに限る。  
No matter what, the best thing is to hurry back to Tokyo and be with Kiyo again.
こんな田舎に居るのは堕落しに来ているようなものだ。  
Staying in a backwater like this is like coming here on purpose to go to the bad.
新聞配達をしたって、ここまで堕落するよりはましだ。  
Even delivering newspapers would be better than sinking this low.

こう考えて、いやいや、附いてくると、何だか先鋒が急にがやがや騒ぎ出した。  
Thinking this over, trudging along unwillingly, I noticed the students at the head of the line suddenly break out in an uproar.
同時に列はぴたりと留まる。  
At the same moment the whole line came to a dead stop.
変だから、列を右へはずして、向うを見ると、大手町を突き当って薬師町へ曲がる角の所で、行き詰ったぎり、押し返したり、押し返されたりして揉み合っている。  
Since something seemed wrong, I stepped out of the line to the right, and looking ahead I saw that at the corner where Ōtemachi runs into the turn for Yakushimachi, everyone had jammed up and was shoving back and forth in a scuffle.
前方から静かに静かにと声を涸らして来た体操教師に何ですと聞くと、曲り角で中学校と師範学校が衝突したんだと云う。  
I asked the gym teacher, who came from up front hoarse with shouting 'quiet, quiet,' what was going on, and he said the middle school and the normal school had collided at the corner.

中学と師範とはどこの県下でも犬と猿のように仲がわるいそうだ。  
The middle school and the normal school, it seems, are on bad terms like dog and monkey in every prefecture.
なぜだかわからないが、まるで気風が合わない。  
I don't know why, but their temperaments simply don't mix.
何かあると喧嘩をする。  
The moment anything happens, they fight.
大方狭い田舎で退屈だから、暇潰しにやる仕事なんだろう。  
Most likely it's just something to do to kill the boredom of a cramped little backwater.
おれは喧嘩は好きな方だから、衝突と聞いて、面白半分に馳け出して行った。  
I'm rather fond of a good fight myself, so hearing there'd been a collision, I ran off half for the fun of it.
すると前の方にいる連中は、しきりに何だ地方税の癖に、引き込めと、怒鳴ってる。  
The crowd up front kept bawling things like, 'What, you're only local-tax students, back off!'
後ろからは押せ押せと大きな声を出す。  
From behind, others were shouting 'push, push!' at the top of their lungs.
おれは邪魔になる生徒の間をくぐり抜けて、曲がり角へもう少しで出ようとした時に、前へ！  
I ducked through the students who were in my way, and just as I was about to reach the corner, 'Forward!'
　と云う高く鋭い号令が聞えたと思ったら師範学校の方は粛粛として行進を始めた。  
No sooner had I heard the high, sharp command than the normal-school students began marching off in perfect solemn order.
> 粛粛として (shukushuku to shite) — 'in solemn order': «粛粛として» しゅくしゅくとして (shukushuku to shite) — a formal, almost military adverb meaning 'solemnly, in strict order'; its sudden appearance right after the shouting match plays up the comic contrast between chaos and instant discipline.
先を争った衝突は、折合がついたには相違ないが、つまり中学校が一歩を譲ったのである。  
The clash over who'd go first had certainly been settled, but in short it was the middle school that had given ground.
資格から云うと師範学校の方が上だそうだ。  
In terms of rank, they say, the normal school outranks the middle school.

祝勝の式はすこぶる簡単なものであった。  
The victory ceremony itself was an extremely simple affair.
旅団長が祝詞を読む、知事が祝詞を読む、参列者が万歳を唱える。  
The brigade commander read out a congratulatory address, the governor read one too, and those attending shouted banzai.
それでおしまいだ。  
And that was the end of it.
余興は午後にあると云う話だから、ひとまず下宿へ帰って、こないだじゅうから、気に掛っていた、清への返事をかきかけた。  
Since word was the entertainments wouldn't start until afternoon, I went back to my lodgings for the time being and set about writing the reply to Kiyo that had been on my mind for days.
今度はもっと詳しく書いてくれとの注文だから、なるべく念入に認めなくっちゃならない。  
Her request this time was for me to write in more detail, so I had to set it down as carefully as I could.
しかしいざとなって、半切を取り上げると、書く事はたくさんあるが、何から書き出していいか、わからない。  
But once it actually came to it and I picked up the writing paper, though I had plenty to write about, I had no idea where to begin.
あれにしようか、あれは面倒臭い。  
Should I write about that? No, that's too much trouble.
これにしようか、これはつまらない。  
This, then? No, this is too dull.
何か、すらすらと出て、骨が折れなくって、そうして清が面白がるようなものはないかしらん、と考えてみると、そんな注文通りの事件は一つもなさそうだ。  
Was there nothing that would come out smoothly, without any effort, and still amuse Kiyo — when I thought it over, there didn't seem to be a single incident that fit the bill.
おれは墨を磨って、筆をしめして、巻紙を睨めて、――巻紙を睨めて、筆をしめして、墨を磨って――同じ所作を同じように何返も繰り返したあと、おれには、とても手紙は書けるものではないと、諦めて硯の蓋をしてしまった。  
I ground the ink, wetted the brush, glared at the scroll of paper — glared at the paper, wetted the brush, ground the ink again — and after repeating the same motions the same way over and over, I gave up, deciding I simply wasn't cut out to write letters, and put the lid back on the inkstone.
手紙なんぞをかくのは面倒臭い。  
Writing letters of any kind is a nuisance.
やっぱり東京まで出掛けて行って、逢って話をするのが簡便だ。  
It really would be simpler just to go all the way to Tokyo, meet her, and talk.
清の心配は察しないでもないが、清の注文通りの手紙を書くのは三七日の断食よりも苦しい。  
It's not that I don't understand Kiyo's worry, but writing a letter exactly to her order is harder than a twenty-one-day fast.

おれは筆と巻紙を抛り出して、ごろりと転がって肱枕をして庭の方を眺めてみたが、やっぱり清の事が気にかかる。  
I flung down the brush and paper, rolled over, propped my head on my elbow, and looked out at the garden, but Kiyo was still on my mind.
その時おれはこう思った。  
It was then that this thought came to me.
こうして遠くへ来てまで、清の身の上を案じていてやりさえすれば、おれの真心は清に通じるに違いない。  
As long as I go on worrying about Kiyo's welfare even from this far away, my true feeling is sure to reach her.
> に違いない — 'must be, surely': «に違いない» attached to a plain verb states a confident conclusion: 'there is no mistaking that...', 'X must be so'. Here Botchan talks himself into believing his silence will still read as devotion — a rationalization dressed up as certainty.
通じさえすれば手紙なんぞやる必要はない。  
And as long as it reaches her, there's no need to send letters at all.
やらなければ無事で暮してると思ってるだろう。  
If I don't write, she'll simply assume I'm getting along fine.
たよりは死んだ時か病気の時か、何か事の起った時にやりさえすればいい訳だ。  
News from me only needs to go out if I die, or fall ill, or something else happens — that's really all there is to it.

庭は十坪ほどの平庭で、これという植木もない。  
The garden is a flat little plot of some ten tsubo, with nothing you could call a planted tree.
ただ一本の蜜柑があって、塀のそとから、目標になるほど高い。  
There's just the one mandarin-orange tree, tall enough to serve as a landmark even from outside the wall.
おれはうちへ帰ると、いつでもこの蜜柑を眺める。  
Whenever I come home, I always end up looking at this mikan tree.
東京を出た事のないものには蜜柑の生っているところはすこぶる珍しいものだ。  
To someone who's never left Tokyo, the sight of mikan actually growing is a tremendous curiosity.
あの青い実がだんだん熟してきて、黄色になるんだろうが、定めて奇麗だろう。  
Those green fruits will gradually ripen and turn yellow, I imagine, and it must be a fine sight.
今でももう半分色の変ったのがある。  
Even now there are some that have already turned half-color.
婆さんに聞いてみると、すこぶる水気の多い、旨い蜜柑だそうだ。  
When I asked the old landlady about it, she said they were an extremely juicy, delicious kind of mikan.
今に熟たら、たんと召し上がれと云ったから、毎日少しずつ食ってやろう。  
She told me that once they ripened I should help myself to plenty, so I'll oblige her by eating a little every day.
もう三週間もしたら、充分食えるだろう。  
In another three weeks or so, they ought to be quite ready to eat.
まさか三週間以内にここを去る事もなかろう。  
Surely I won't be leaving this place within three weeks.

おれが蜜柑の事を考えているところへ、偶然山嵐が話しにやって来た。  
Just as I was thinking about the mikan, Porcupine happened to come by for a chat.
今日は祝勝会だから、君といっしょにご馳走を食おうと思って牛肉を買って来たと、竹の皮の包を袂から引きずり出して、座敷の真中へ抛り出した。  
'Since it's the victory celebration today, I thought I'd have a feast with you,' he said, dragging a bamboo-leaf parcel out of his sleeve and flinging it down in the middle of the room; he'd gone and bought beef.
おれは下宿で芋責豆腐責になってる上、蕎麦屋行き、団子屋行きを禁じられてる際だから、そいつは結構だと、すぐ婆さんから鍋と砂糖をかり込んで、煮方に取りかかった。  
Since I was being tortured with a steady diet of potatoes and tofu at my lodgings, on top of being forbidden to go to the noodle shop or the dumpling shop, I said that suited me fine, and at once borrowed a pot and some sugar from the landlady and got to work cooking it.

山嵐は無暗に牛肉を頬張りながら、君あの赤シャツが芸者に馴染のある事を知ってるかと聞くから、知ってるとも、この間うらなりの送別会の時に来た一人がそうだろうと云ったら、そうだ僕はこの頃ようやく勘づいたのに、君はなかなか敏捷だと大いにほめた。  
Porcupine, stuffing his mouth with beef without ceremony, asked me if I knew that Red Shirt had a regular geisha, and when I said of course I knew — that one of the geisha who'd come to Uranari's farewell party the other day must be her — he said, 'That's the one; I've only just caught on myself, but you're pretty quick,' and praised me to the skies.

「あいつは、ふた言目には品性だの、精神的娯楽だのと云う癖に、裏へ廻って、芸者と関係なんかつけとる、怪しからん奴だ。  
'That fellow, every other word out of his mouth is character this, spiritual amusement that, and yet behind everyone's back he's carrying on with a geisha — an outrageous scoundrel.'
それもほかの人が遊ぶのを寛容するならいいが、君が蕎麦屋へ行ったり、団子屋へはいるのさえ取締上害になると云って、校長の口を通して注意を加えたじゃないか」  
'And if he were at least tolerant of other people's amusements it would be one thing, but he went and had the principal warn you that even going to a noodle shop or stepping into a dumpling shop was bad for discipline, didn't he?'

「うん、あの野郎の考えじゃ芸者買は精神的娯楽で、天麩羅や、団子は物理的娯楽なんだろう。  
'Right, in that fellow's mind buying a geisha's company must count as a spiritual amusement, while tempura and dumplings are just physical amusements, I suppose.'
精神的娯楽なら、もっと大べらにやるがいい。  
'If it's a spiritual amusement, he ought to go about it more openly.'
何だあの様は。  
'What's with that manner of his, anyway.'
馴染の芸者がはいってくると、入れ代りに席をはずして、逃げるなんて、どこまでも人を胡魔化す気だから気に食わない。  
'The moment his regular geisha comes in, he slips out and makes his escape — the man means to fool people through and through, and I can't stand it.'
そうして人が攻撃すると、僕は知らないとか、露西亜文学だとか、俳句が新体詩の兄弟分だとか云って、人を烟に捲くつもりなんだ。  
'And then when someone calls him on it, he says he doesn't know anything about it, or brings up Russian literature, or says haiku and the new-style poem are like brothers — all to bamboozle people.'
あんな弱虫は男じゃないよ。  
'A coward like that isn't a man at all.'
全く御殿女中の生れ変りか何かだぜ。  
'He's the reincarnation of some palace lady-in-waiting or other, plain and simple.'
ことによると、あいつのおやじは湯島のかげまかもしれない」  
'For all we know his father was one of Yushima's boy prostitutes.'

「湯島のかげまた何だ」  
'What in the world is a Yushima kagema?'

「何でも男らしくないもんだろう。  
'Whatever it is, it's bound to be something unmanly.'
――君そこのところはまだ煮えていないぜ。  
'—Say, that part there isn't cooked yet.'
そんなのを食うと絛虫が湧くぜ」  
'Eat that and you'll get tapeworms.'

「そうか、大抵大丈夫だろう。  
'Is that so? It's probably fine by now.'
それで赤シャツは人に隠れて、温泉の町の角屋へ行って、芸者と会見するそうだ」  
'Anyway, they say Red Shirt sneaks off where no one can see him, over to the Kadoya in the hot-spring town, to meet his geisha.'

「角屋って、あの宿屋か」  
'The Kadoya — you mean that inn?'

「宿屋兼料理屋さ。  
'It's an inn and a restaurant both.'
だからあいつを一番へこますためには、あいつが芸者をつれて、あすこへはいり込むところを見届けておいて面詰するんだね」  
'So, to give him the biggest comeuppance, the thing to do is catch him in the act of going in there with the geisha, and confront him to his face.'

「見届けるって、夜番でもするのかい」  
'Catch him — you mean you'd stand watch all night?'

「うん、角屋の前に枡屋という宿屋があるだろう。  
'Right, there's an inn called the Masuya right across from the Kadoya.'
あの表二階をかりて、障子へ穴をあけて、見ているのさ」  
'I'll rent the front room upstairs there, poke a hole in the paper screen, and keep watch through it.'

「見ているときに来るかい」  
'And will he come while you're watching?'

「来るだろう。  
'He's bound to.'
どうせひと晩じゃいけない。  
'One night won't do it, of course.'
二週間ばかりやるつもりでなくっちゃ」  
'You've got to be prepared to keep it up for a couple of weeks.'

「随分疲れるぜ。  
'That sounds exhausting.'
僕あ、おやじの死ぬとき一週間ばかり徹夜して看病した事があるが、あとでぼんやりして、大いに弱った事がある」  
'I once stayed up all night nursing my father for about a week before he died, and afterward I was so dazed I really suffered for it.'

「少しぐらい身体が疲れたって構わんさ。  
'A little physical exhaustion doesn't matter.'
あんな奸物をあのままにしておくと、日本のためにならないから、僕が天に代って誅戮を加えるんだ」  
'Leave a scoundrel like that be, and it'll do Japan no good, so I'm going to act on Heaven's behalf and strike him down.'

「愉快だ。  
'Delightful.'
そう事が極まれば、おれも加勢してやる。  
'If it comes to that, I'll lend a hand too.'
それで今夜から夜番をやるのかい」  
'So are you starting the night watch tonight?'

「まだ枡屋に懸合ってないから、今夜は駄目だ」  
'I haven't negotiated with the Masuya yet, so tonight's no good.'

「それじゃ、いつから始めるつもりだい」  
'Then when do you plan to start?'

「近々のうちやるさ。  
'One of these days, soon.'
いずれ君に報知をするから、そうしたら、加勢してくれたまえ」  
'I'll let you know eventually, and when I do, come lend a hand.'

「よろしい、いつでも加勢する。  
'Fine, I'll help any time.'
僕は計略は下手だが、喧嘩とくるとこれでなかなかすばしこいぜ」  
'I'm no good at scheming, but when it comes to a fight, I'm pretty quick on my feet, believe it or not.'

おれと山嵐がしきりに赤シャツ退治の計略を相談していると、宿の婆さんが出て来て、学校の生徒さんが一人、堀田先生にお目にかかりたいててお出でたぞなもし。  
While Porcupine and I were deep in our scheming over how to bring Red Shirt down, the landlady of the house came in and said that a student from school had come wanting to see Mr. Hotta, if you please.
> Humble keigo: お目にかかる: «お目にかかる» おめにかかる is the humble (謙譲語) form of «会う», used when a lower-status speaker describes meeting someone of higher status — here, a student wanting to see a teacher. Literally, its components are closer to 'come before' or 'be seen by [someone's] eyes.', it lowers the speaker rather than raising the listener.
今お宅へ参じたのじゃが、お留守じゃけれ、大方ここじゃろうてて捜し当ててお出でたのじゃがなもしと、閾の所へ膝を突いて山嵐の返事を待ってる。  
He'd just been round to your own house, she said, but you weren't in, so he'd guessed you'd likely be here and tracked you down, if you please — and with that she knelt on the threshold and waited for Porcupine's answer.
> Iyo dialect: なもし, てて: «なもし» and «てて» are sentence-final and quotative particles of the Iyo (Matsuyama-area, Shikoku) dialect the landlady speaks — roughly 'if you please' and a dialect form of と言って, meaning 'saying' or 'thinking that'. Sōseki renders her speech phonetically to mark her as a local, set against Botchan's brusque Tokyo diction.
山嵐はそうですかと玄関まで出て行ったが、やがて帰って来て、君、生徒が祝勝会の余興を見に行かないかって誘いに来たんだ。  
Porcupine said, 'Is that so,' and went out to the entryway, but before long he came back and said, 'A student's come to invite me to go see the entertainments at the victory celebration.'
今日は高知から、何とか踴りをしに、わざわざここまで多人数乗り込んで来ているのだから、是非見物しろ、めったに見られない踴だというんだ、君もいっしょに行ってみたまえと山嵐は大いに乗り気で、おれに同行を勧める。  
'A whole crowd has come all the way from Kōchi today just to perform some sort of dance, so he says I absolutely must see it — it's a dance you hardly ever get to see, he says. You should come along too,' Porcupine said, thoroughly keen on the idea, and urged me to join him.
おれは踴なら東京でたくさん見ている。  
As for dances, I'd already seen plenty in Tokyo.
毎年八幡様のお祭りには屋台が町内へ廻ってくるんだから汐酌みでも何でもちゃんと心得ている。  
Every year at the Hachiman shrine festival the floats come round through the district, so I know all about the Shiokumi dance and everything else.
土佐っぽの馬鹿踴なんか、見たくもないと思ったけれども、せっかく山嵐が勧めるもんだから、つい行く気になって門へ出た。  
I didn't much want to see some idiotic dancing by Tosa bumpkins, but since Porcupine was so insistent, I found myself agreeing to go, and stepped out the gate.
山嵐を誘いに来たものは誰かと思ったら赤シャツの弟だ。  
When I wondered who it was that had come to invite Porcupine, it turned out to be none other than Red Shirt's younger brother.
妙な奴が来たもんだ。  
A strange one to come calling, indeed.

会場へはいると、回向院の相撲か本門寺の御会式のように幾旒となく長い旗を所々に植え付けた上に、世界万国の国旗をことごとく借りて来たくらい、縄から縄、綱から綱へ渡しかけて、大きな空が、いつになく賑やかに見える。  
When we got to the grounds, long banners had been planted here and there just as at the sumo wrestling at Ekōin or the Oeshiki festival at Honmonji, and on top of that, as if they'd borrowed the flags of every nation on earth, they were strung from rope to rope, cord to cord, so that the great sky overhead looked livelier than I'd ever seen it.
東の隅に一夜作りの舞台を設けて、ここでいわゆる高知の何とか踴りをやるんだそうだ。  
In the eastern corner a stage had been thrown together overnight, and it was there, they said, that this so-called Kōchi dance was to be performed.
舞台を右へ半町ばかりくると葭簀の囲いをして、活花が陳列してある。  
Some sixty yards to the right of the stage there was a reed-screen enclosure with an exhibit of flower arrangements on display.
みんなが感心して眺めているが、一向くだらないものだ。  
Everyone stood there admiring them, but it struck me as utterly worthless stuff.
あんなに草や竹を曲げて嬉しがるなら、背虫の色男や、跛の亭主を持って自慢するがよかろう。  
If bending grass and bamboo into shapes like that makes people so pleased with themselves, they might as well go boast of having a hunchback for a lover or a lame man for a husband.

舞台とは反対の方面で、しきりに花火を揚げる。  
On the side opposite the stage, fireworks were being set off one after another.
花火の中から風船が出た。  
A balloon came out from inside one of the fireworks.
帝国万歳とかいてある。  
It had 'Long Live the Empire' written on it.
天主の松の上をふわふわ飛んで営所のなかへ落ちた。  
It drifted lightly over the pine tree by the castle keep and fell down inside the barracks grounds.
次はぽんと音がして、黒い団子が、しょっと秋の空を射抜くように揚がると、それがおれの頭の上で、ぽかりと割れて、青い烟が傘の骨のように開いて、だらだらと空中に流れ込んだ。  
Next there came a pop, and a black dumpling-shaped thing shot up as if piercing straight through the autumn sky, and right above my head it burst open with a crack, spreading blue smoke out like the ribs of an umbrella, which then drifted lazily off into the air.
風船がまた上がった。  
Another balloon went up.
今度は陸海軍万歳と赤地に白く染め抜いた奴が風に揺られて、温泉の町から、相生村の方へ飛んでいった。  
This one had 'Long Live the Army and Navy' dyed white on a red ground, and swaying in the wind it flew off from the hot-spring town toward Aioi village.
大方観音様の境内へでも落ちたろう。  
It most likely came down somewhere in the grounds of the Kannon temple.

式の時はさほどでもなかったが、今度は大変な人出だ。  
At the ceremony itself the crowd hadn't amounted to much, but this time there was a tremendous turnout.
田舎にもこんなに人間が住んでるかと驚ろいたぐらいうじゃうじゃしている。  
There were so many people swarming about that I was actually startled that even the countryside had this many people living in it.
利口な顔はあまり見当らないが、数から云うとたしかに馬鹿に出来ない。  
You didn't see many clever faces among them, but in sheer numbers you certainly couldn't dismiss them.
そのうち評判の高知の何とか踴が始まった。  
Before long the celebrated Kōchi dance got underway.
踴というから藤間か何ぞのやる踴りかと早合点していたが、これは大間違いであった。  
Hearing the word 'dance,' I'd jumped to the conclusion it would be something in the style of the Fujima school, but this turned out to be a huge mistake.

いかめしい後鉢巻をして、立っ付け袴を穿いた男が十人ばかりずつ、舞台の上に三列に並んで、その三十人がことごとく抜き身を携げているには魂消た。  
Men in stern-looking headbands tied at the back, wearing tight-fitting trousers, stood in three rows of about ten on the stage, and I was thoroughly startled to see that every last one of the thirty was carrying a bared sword.
前列と後列の間はわずか一尺五寸ぐらいだろう、左右の間隔はそれより短いとも長くはない。  
The gap between the front row and the row behind it was a mere foot and a half or so, and the gaps to left and right were, if anything, shorter, and certainly no longer.
たった一人列を離れて舞台の端に立ってるのがあるばかりだ。  
Only a single man stood apart from the ranks, off at the edge of the stage.
この仲間外れの男は袴だけはつけているが、後鉢巻は倹約して、抜身の代りに、胸へ太鼓を懸けている。  
This odd man out wore the same trousers as the rest, but he'd dispensed with the headband, and instead of a bared sword he had a drum slung across his chest.
太鼓は太神楽の太鼓と同じ物だ。  
The drum was the same kind used in dai-kagura performances.
この男がやがて、いやあ、はああと呑気な声を出して、妙な謡をうたいながら、太鼓をぼこぼん、ぼこぼんと叩く。  
Before long this man began letting out a lazy 'iyaa, haaa,' singing some strange chant while beating the drum with a boko-bon, boko-bon.
歌の調子は前代未聞の不思議なものだ。  
The tune itself was a thing so odd it was quite unheard-of.
三河万歳と普陀洛やの合併したものと思えば大した間違いにはならない。  
You wouldn't be far wrong to think of it as a cross between a Mikawa manzai chant and a Fudaraku-ya street song.
> 三河万歳 (Mikawa manzai): «三河万歳» みかわまんざい (Mikawa manzai) — a traditional New Year's comic duo performance (chant plus fan-and-drum patter) originating in Mikawa province; Botchan uses it as one half of his joking description of the Tosa dance's strange tune.

歌はすこぶる悠長なもので、夏分の水飴のように、だらしがないが、句切りをとるためにぼこぼんを入れるから、のべつのようでも拍子は取れる。  
The song itself was terribly slow and slack as starch syrup in summer, but since the boko-bon beats marked off the phrases, even though it seemed to run on forever you could still keep time by it.
この拍子に応じて三十人の抜き身がぴかぴかと光るのだが、これはまたすこぶる迅速なお手際で、拝見していても冷々する。  
In time with this beat the thirty bared swords flashed and glittered, and this part, by contrast, was carried out with tremendous speed and skill — watching it was enough to send a chill down your spine.
隣りも後ろも一尺五寸以内に生きた人間が居て、その人間がまた切れる抜き身を自分と同じように振り舞わすのだから、よほど調子が揃わなければ、同志撃を始めて怪我をする事になる。  
There was a living man within a foot and a half on either side and behind, and that man too was swinging a sharp naked blade about exactly as you were, so unless the timing was very precisely matched, you'd end up striking one another and getting hurt.
それも動かないで刀だけ前後とか上下とかに振るのなら、まだ危険もないが、三十人が一度に足踏みをして横を向く時がある。  
If they'd simply stood still and only swung the swords back and forth or up and down, there wouldn't have been much danger, but there were moments when all thirty of them stamped their feet at once and turned sideways.
ぐるりと廻る事がある。  
There were moments when they spun clean around.
膝を曲げる事がある。  
There were moments when they bent their knees.
隣りのものが一秒でも早過ぎるか、遅過ぎれば、自分の鼻は落ちるかも知れない。  
If the man next to you was even a single second too fast or too slow, your own nose might well come clean off.
隣りの頭はそがれるかも知れない。  
Your neighbor's head might get sliced off.
抜き身の動くのは自由自在だが、その動く範囲は一尺五寸角の柱のうちにかぎられた上に、前後左右のものと同方向に同速度にひらめかなければならない。  
The bare blades moved with total freedom, yet the space they moved within was boxed into a column a foot and a half on each side, and on top of that they had to flash in the same direction and at the same speed as the men in front, behind, and to either side.
こいつは驚いた、なかなかもって汐酌や関の戸の及ぶところでない。  
This, I thought, was something else — nothing the Shiokumi or the Seki no To dances could ever hope to match.
聞いてみると、これははなはだ熟練の入るもので容易な事では、こういう風に調子が合わないそうだ。  
When I asked around, I was told this required a very great deal of skill, and that ordinarily people could never get the timing to match up this well.
ことにむずかしいのは、かの万歳節のぼこぼん先生だそうだ。  
The hardest part of all, they said, fell to that manzai-chanting fellow with the boko-bon drum.
三十人の足の運びも、手の働きも、腰の曲げ方も、ことごとくこのぼこぼん君の拍子一つで極まるのだそうだ。  
The footwork of all thirty men, the movement of their hands, the way they bent their hips — every last bit of it, it seemed, was governed entirely by this boko-bon fellow's single beat.
傍で見ていると、この大将が一番呑気そうに、いやあ、はああと気楽にうたってるが、その実ははなはだ責任が重くって非常に骨が折れるとは不思議なものだ。  
Watching from the side, this chief of theirs looked the most easygoing of the lot, chanting his 'iyaa, haaa' at his leisure, and yet in truth he carried the heaviest responsibility and had by far the hardest job — a curious thing indeed.

おれと山嵐が感心のあまりこの踴を余念なく見物していると、半町ばかり、向うの方で急にわっと云う鬨の声がして、今まで穏やかに諸所を縦覧していた連中が、にわかに波を打って、右左りに揺き始める。  
While Porcupine and I were watching this dance with rapt admiration, all of a sudden, some sixty yards or so away, a battle cry rose up with a roar, and the crowd that until then had been quietly wandering about looking at this and that suddenly rippled like a wave and began swaying left and right.
喧嘩だ喧嘩だと云う声がすると思うと、人の袖を潜り抜けて来た赤シャツの弟が、先生また喧嘩です、中学の方で、今朝の意趣返しをするんで、また師範の奴と決戦を始めたところです、早く来て下さいと云いながらまた人の波のなかへ潜り込んでどっかへ行ってしまった。  
No sooner had voices started shouting 'A fight, a fight!' than Red Shirt's younger brother came slipping through people's sleeves and said, 'Sir, there's another fight — the middle school is getting its revenge for this morning and has started another battle with those normal-school fellows, please come quick,' and with that he dove back into the crowd and disappeared somewhere.

山嵐は世話の焼ける小僧だまた始めたのか、いい加減にすればいいのにと逃げる人を避けながら一散に馳け出した。  
Porcupine muttered, 'What a troublesome lot. At it again, are they? They ought to know when enough is enough.,' and dashed off at a run, dodging the fleeing people.
見ている訳にも行かないから取り鎮めるつもりだろう。  
He couldn't very well just stand there watching, so I supposed he meant to break it up.
おれは無論の事逃げる気はない。  
As for me, needless to say, I had no intention of running away.
山嵐の踵を踏んであとからすぐ現場へ馳けつけた。  
Treading right on Porcupine's heels, I rushed straight for the scene of the trouble behind him.
喧嘩は今が真最中である。  
The fight was at its very height.
師範の方は五六十人もあろうか、中学はたしかに三割方多い。  
The normal-school side numbered maybe fifty or sixty; the middle school certainly had a good thirty percent more.
> もあろうか — a tentative headcount: «もあろうか» tacks «も» ('as many as') onto the tentative/presumptive «あろう» (from «ある») plus the questioning «か»: 'there must be as many as fifty or sixty, I'd guess'. It's the natural way to eyeball a crowd you can't actually count.
師範は制服をつけているが、中学は式後大抵は日本服に着換えているから、敵味方はすぐわかる。  
The normal-school boys had their uniforms on, but the middle-school boys had mostly changed into Japanese dress after the ceremony, so it was easy to tell friend from foe.
しかし入り乱れて組んづ、解れつ戦ってるから、どこから、どう手を付けて引き分けていいか分らない。  
But they were all tangled together, grappling and breaking apart and grappling again, so there was no telling where or how to lay hands on them to pull them apart.
山嵐は困ったなと云う風で、しばらくこの乱雑な有様を眺めていたが、こうなっちゃ仕方がない。  
Porcupine, looking as if he didn't know what to do, stood there watching this chaotic mess for a while — 'Once it's come to this, there's no help for it.'
> こうなっちゃ — contraction of こうなっては: «こうなっちゃ» contracts «こうなっては» ('once it's come to this'), swallowing «は» into «ちゃ» — a rough, spoken-register contraction typical of Botchan's and Porcupine's masculine Tokyo speech, never written out in full in dialogue like this.
巡査がくると面倒だ。  
'If the police show up it'll be a nuisance.'
飛び込んで分けようと、おれの方を見て云うから、おれは返事もしないで、いきなり、一番喧嘩の烈しそうな所へ躍り込んだ。  
'Let's jump in and pull them apart,' he said, looking my way, and without even answering I plunged straight into the thick of the worst of the fighting.
止せ止せ。  
'Stop it, stop it!'
そんな乱暴をすると学校の体面に関わる。  
'This kind of violence reflects badly on the school.'
よさないかと、出るだけの声を出して敵と味方の分界線らしい所を突き貫けようとしたが、なかなかそう旨くは行かない。  
'Won't you stop!' I shouted at the top of my voice, trying to force my way through what looked like the line between the two sides, but it didn't go nearly as smoothly as that.
一二間はいったら、出る事も引く事も出来なくなった。  
After I'd pushed my way six to twelve feet in, I found I could neither advance nor pull back.
目の前に比較的大きな師範生が、十五六の中学生と組み合っている。  
Right in front of me a fairly large normal-school student was grappling with a middle-school boy of fifteen or sixteen.
止せと云ったら、止さないかと師範生の肩を持って、無理に引き分けようとする途端にだれか知らないが、下からおれの足をすくった。  
I shouted, 'When I tell you to stop, stop!' grabbing the normal-school student by the shoulder and trying to force them apart, when at that very instant someone, I don't know who, swept my legs out from under me.
おれは不意を打たれて握った、肩を放して、横に倒れた。  
Caught off guard, I let go of the shoulder I'd been gripping and went down sideways.
堅い靴でおれの背中の上へ乗った奴がある。  
Someone in hard boots stepped right onto my back.
両手と膝を突いて下から、跳ね起きたら、乗った奴は右の方へころがり落ちた。  
Bracing myself on both hands and knees, I sprang up from underneath, and the fellow who'd been standing on me went tumbling off to the right.
起き上がって見ると、三間ばかり向うに山嵐の大きな身体が生徒の間に挟まりながら、止せ止せ、喧嘩は止せ止せと揉み返されてるのが見えた。  
Getting to my feet, I saw, some eighteen feet off, Porcupine's big body wedged among the students, being shoved this way and that as he kept shouting, 'Stop it, stop it, stop the fighting, stop it.'
おい到底駄目だと云ってみたが聞えないのか返事もしない。  
'Hey, it's no use at all,' I called out, but either he couldn't hear me or he simply didn't answer.

ひゅうと風を切って飛んで来た石が、いきなりおれの頬骨へ中ったなと思ったら、後ろからも、背中を棒でどやした奴がある。  
A stone came whistling through the air and, before I knew it, struck me square on the cheekbone, and at the same moment someone behind me thumped my back with a stick.
教師の癖に出ている、打て打てと云う声がする。  
I heard voices shouting, 'He's a teacher and he came out here anyway, hit him, hit him!'
教師は二人だ。  
'There are two teachers.'
大きい奴と、小さい奴だ。  
'A big one and a small one.'
石を抛げろ。  
'Throw stones!'
と云う声もする。  
went another voice.
おれは、なに生意気な事をぬかすな、田舎者の癖にと、いきなり、傍に居た師範生の頭を張りつけてやった。  
I thought, don't talk so cheeky, country bumpkins, and without warning slapped the head of the normal-school boy standing beside me.
石がまたひゅうと来る。  
Another stone came whistling in.
今度はおれの五分刈の頭を掠めて後ろの方へ飛んで行った。  
This one grazed my close-cropped head and flew off behind me.
山嵐はどうなったか見えない。  
I couldn't see what had become of Porcupine.
こうなっちゃ仕方がない。  
Once it had come to this, there was nothing for it.
始めは喧嘩をとめにはいったんだが、どやされたり、石をなげられたりして、恐れ入って引き下がるうんでれがんがあるものか。  
I'd gone in to stop the fight in the first place, but what spineless fool would meekly back down just because he'd been thumped and had stones thrown at him?
> ものか — rhetorical negation: A plain verb + «ものか» forms a rhetorical question that means its own strong opposite: 'Would I retreat? Not a chance!' It's a favorite construction for Botchan's defiant inner monologue.
おれを誰だと思うんだ。  
Who did they think they were dealing with?
身長は小さくっても喧嘩の本場で修行を積んだ兄さんだと無茶苦茶に張り飛ばしたり、張り飛ばされたりしていると、やがて巡査だ巡査だ逃げろ逃げろと云う声がした。  
Small as I might be, I was a fellow trained in the very home ground of fighting, and while I went on wildly slapping and getting slapped in return, a voice at last cried, 'The police, the police, run, run!'
今まで葛練りの中で泳いでるように身動きも出来なかったのが、急に楽になったと思ったら、敵も味方も一度に引上げてしまった。  
Until then I'd been unable to move at all, as if swimming through kudzu starch, but the very moment things suddenly grew easier, both sides, friend and foe alike, pulled back all at once.
田舎者でも退却は巧妙だ。  
Country bumpkins or not, their retreat was masterly.
クロパトキンより旨いくらいである。  
Better managed, if anything, than one of Kuropatkin's.

山嵐はどうしたかと見ると、紋付の一重羽織をずたずたにして、向うの方で鼻を拭いている。  
Looking to see what had become of Porcupine, I found him over there wiping his nose, his crested single-layer haori torn to shreds.
鼻柱をなぐられて大分出血したんだそうだ。  
He'd apparently been struck square on the bridge of the nose and had bled quite a bit.
鼻がふくれ上がって真赤になってすこぶる見苦しい。  
His nose had swollen up bright red, and looked thoroughly wretched.
おれは飛白の袷を着ていたから泥だらけになったけれども、山嵐の羽織ほどな損害はない。  
I'd been wearing a splash-pattern lined kimono, which had gotten covered in mud, but the damage was nothing next to what Porcupine's haori had suffered.
しかし頬ぺたがぴりぴりしてたまらない。  
Still, my cheek stung so much I could hardly stand it.
山嵐は大分血が出ているぜと教えてくれた。  
Porcupine told me I was bleeding quite a lot.

巡査は十五六名来たのだが、生徒は反対の方面から退却したので、捕まったのは、おれと山嵐だけである。  
Some fifteen or sixteen policemen had come, but since the students had retreated in the opposite direction, the only ones caught were Porcupine and myself.
おれらは姓名を告げて、一部始終を話したら、ともかくも警察まで来いと云うから、警察へ行って、署長の前で事の顛末を述べて下宿へ帰った。  
We gave our names and told the whole story from beginning to end, but they said we'd have to come to the police station regardless, so we went, related the entire affair before the chief of police, and then went back to our lodgings.
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Source text: public domain (Natsume Sōseki, d. 1916; first published 1906), from Aozora Bunko. English translation and notes: © 2026 1732 Studios, LLC. Narration: synthesized for this edition.
