Early Modern Japanese Literature: An Anthology, 1600–1900
Page 38
CHANTER: Before he can finish speaking, Kuheiji bursts out laughing.
[KUHEIJI]: Are you out of your mind, Tokubei? I can’t remember having borrowed a penny from you in all the years I’ve known you. Don’t make any accusations that you’ll regret.
CHANTER: He shakes himself free. His companions also remove their hats.8 Tokubei pales with astonishment.
[TOKUBEI]: Don’t say that, Kuheiji! You came to me in tears, saying that you couldn’t survive your monthly bills, and I thought that this was the kind of emergency for which we’d been friends all these years. I lent you the money as an act of generosity, though I needed it desperately myself. I told you that I didn’t even require a receipt, but you insisted on putting your seal to one, for form’s sake. You made me write out a promissory note and you sealed it. Don’t try to deny it, Kuheiji!
CHANTER: Tokubei rebukes him heatedly.
[KUHEIJI]: What’s that? I’d like to see the seal.
[TOKUBEI]: Do you think I’m afraid to show you?
CHANTER: He produces the paper from his wallet.
[TOKUBEI]: If these gentlemen are from the ward, I am sure that they will recognize your seal. Will you still dispute it?
CHANTER: When he unfolds the paper and displays it, Kuheiji claps his hands in recollection.
[KUHEIJI]: Yes, it’s my seal all right. Oh, Tokubei, I never thought you’d do such a thing, not even if you were starving and forced to eat dirt. On the tenth of the month I lost a wallet containing the seal. I advertised for it everywhere, but without success, so as of the sixteenth of this month, as I’ve informed these gentlemen, I’ve changed my seal. Could I have put the seal I lost on the tenth on a document on the thirteenth? No—what happened was that you found my wallet, wrote the promissory note, and used my seal. Now you’re trying to extort money from me—that makes you a worse criminal than a forger. You’d do better, Tokubei, to commit out-and-out robbery. You deserve to have your head cut off, but for old times’ sake, I’ll forgive you. Let’s see if you can make any money out of this!
CHANTER: He throws the note in Tokubei’s face and glares at him fiercely in an extraordinary display of feigned innocence. Tokubei, furious, cries aloud.
[TOKUBEI]: You’ve been damned clever. You’ve put one over on me. I’m dishonored. What am I to do? Must I let you just steal my money from me? You’ve planned everything so cleverly that even if I go to court, I’m sure to lose. I’ll take back my money with my fists! See here! I’m Tokubei of the Hirano-ya, a man of honor. Do you follow me? I’m not a man to trick a friend out of his money the way you have. Come on!
CHANTER: He falls on Kuheiji.
[KUHEIJI]: You impudent little apprentice! I’ll knock the insolence out of you!
CHANTER: He seizes the front of Tokubei’s kimono and they grapple, trading blows and shoves. Ohatsu rushes barefoot to them.9
[OHATSU] (to townsmen): Please everybody, stop the fight! He’s a friend of mine. Where are the chair bearers? Why don’t they do something? Tokubei’s being beaten up!
CHANTER: She writhes in anguish but is helpless. Her customer, country bumpkin that he is, bundles her forcibly into a palanquin.
[CUSTOMER]: You don’t want to get hurt.
[OHATSU]: Please wait just a moment! Oh, I’m so unhappy!
CHANTER: The palanquin is rushed off, leaving only the echoes of her weeping voice. Tokubei is alone; Kuheiji has five companions. Men rush out from the nearby booths and drive them all with sticks to the lotus pond. Who tramples Tokubei? Who beats him? There is no way to tell. His hair is disheveled, his sash undone. He stumbles and falls to this side and that.
[TOKUBEI]: Kuheiji, you swine! Do you think I’ll let you escape alive?
CHANTER: He staggers about searching for Kuheiji, but he has fled and vanished. Tokubei falls heavily in his tracks, and weeping bitterly, he cries aloud.
[TOKUBEI] (to bystanders): I feel humiliated and ashamed that you’ve seen me this way. There was not a false word in my accusation. I’ve always treated Kuheiji like a brother, and when he begged me for the money, saying he’d never forget it as long as he lived, I lent it to him, sure that he’d do the same for me, though the money was precious as life, and I knew that without it tomorrow, the twenty-first, I’d have to kill myself. He made me write the note in my own hand, then put his seal on it. But it was a seal that he had already reported as lost, and now he’s turned the accusations against me! It’s mortifying, infuriating—to be kicked and beaten this way, dishonored and forced to my knees. It would’ve been better if I had died while smashing and biting him!
CHANTER: He strikes the ground and gnashes his teeth, clenches his fists and moans, a sight to stir compassion.
[TOKUBEI]: There’s no point in my talking this way. Before three days have passed I, Tokubei, will make amends by showing all Osaka the purity at the bottom of my heart.
[CHANTER]: The meaning of these words is later known.
[TOKUBEI]: I’m sorry to have bothered you all. Please forgive me.
CHANTER: He gives his apologies, picks up his battered hat, and puts it on. His face, downcast in the sinking rays of the sun, is clouded by tears that engulf him. Dejectedly he leaves, a sight too pitiful to behold.
Inside the Tenma House, the evening of the same day.
CHANTER:
The breezes of love are all-pervasive
By Shijimi River,10 where love-drowned guests
Like empty shells, bereft of their senses,
Wander the dark ways of love
Lit each night by burning lanterns,
Fireflies that glow in the four seasons,
Stars that shine on rainy nights.
By Plum Bridge,11 blossoms show even in summer.
Rustics on a visit, city connoisseurs,
All journey the varied roads of love,
Where adepts wander and novices play:
What a lively place this New Quarter is!12
But alas for Ohatsu of the Tenma House—even after she returns, the day’s events still weigh on her. She cannot swallow her saké; she feels on edge. As she sits weeping, some courtesans from the neighboring houses and other friends come for a little chat.
[FIRST COURTESAN]: Have you heard, Ohatsu? They say that Toku was given a thrashing for something bad he did. Is it true?
[SECOND COURTESAN]: No, my customer told me that Toku was trampled to death.
CHANTER: They say he was tied up for fraud or trussed for counterfeiting a seal. Not one decent thing have they to report: every expression of sympathy makes their visit the more painful.
[OHATSU]: No, please, not another word. The more I hear, the worse my breast pains me. I’m sure I’ll be the first to die. I wish I were dead already.
CHANTER: She can only weep. But amid her tears she happens to look outside and catches a glimpse of Tokubei, a pathetic figure wearing a wicker hat, even at night.13 Her heart leaps, and she wants to run to him, but in the sitting room are the master and his wife, and by the entrance stands the cook, while in the kitchen a maid is hovering: with so many sharp eyes watching, she cannot do as she pleases.
[OHATSU]: I feel terribly depressed. I think I’ll step outside for a moment.
CHANTER: She slips out softly.
[OHATSU]: What happened? I’ve heard rumors of every sort about you. They’ve driven me out of my mind with worry.
CHANTER: She thrusts her face under the brim of his wicker hat and weeps in secret, soundless, painful tears. He too is lost in tears.
[TOKUBEI]: I’ve been made the victim of a clever plot, as no doubt you’ve heard, and the more I struggle, the worse off I am. Everything has turned against me now. I can’t survive this night. I’ve made up my mind to it.
CHANTER: As he whispers, voices are heard from within.
[VOICES]: Come inside, Ohatsu. There’s enough gossip about you as it is.14
[OHATSU]: There—did you hear? We can’t go on talking. Do as I show you.
CHANTER: She hides hi
m under the train of her mantle. He crawls behind her to the garden door, where he slips beneath the porch at the step. Ohatsu sits by the entrance and, pulling the tobacco tray to her, lights her pipe. She assumes an air of unconcern. At this moment Kuheiji and a couple of his loudmouthed friends burst in, accompanied by a blind musician.
[KUHEIJI]: Hello, girls. You’re looking lonesome. Would you like me for a customer? Hello there, host. I haven’t seen you in ages.
CHANTER: He strides arrogantly into the room.
[HOST]: Bring a tobacco tray and some saké cups.
CHANTER: He makes the customary fuss over the guests.
[KUHEIJI]: No, don’t bother about saké. We were drinking before we came. I have something to tell you. Tokubei, the number one customer of your Ohatsu, found a seal I’d lost and tried to cheat me out of two kanme in silver with a forged note. The facts were too much for him, and he finally met with some unpleasantness, from which he was lucky to escape alive. His reputation has been ruined. Be on your guard if he comes here again. Everybody will tell you that I speak the truth, so even if Tokubei tells you the exact opposite, don’t believe him for a moment. You’d do best not to let him in at all. Sooner or later he’s bound to end up on the gallows.15
CHANTER: He pours out his words convincingly. Tokubei, underneath the porch, gnashes his teeth and trembles with rage. Ohatsu, afraid that he may reveal himself, calms him with her foot, calms him gently. The host is loath to answer yes or no, for Tokubei is a customer of long standing.
[HOST]: Well, then, how about some soup?
CHANTER: Covering his confusion, he leaves the room. Ohatsu, weeping bitterly, exclaims.
[OHATSU]: You needn’t try your clever words on me. Tokubei and I have been intimate for years. We’ve told each other our inmost secrets. He hasn’t a particle of deceit in him, the poor boy. His generosity has been his undoing. He’s been tricked, but he hasn’t the evidence to prove it. After what has happened Tokubei has no choice but to kill himself. I wish I knew whether or not he had decided to die.
CHANTER: She pretends to be talking to herself, but with her foot she questions him. He nods and, taking her ankle, passes it across his throat, to let her know that he is bent on suicide.
[OHATSU]: I knew it. I knew it. No matter how long one lives, it comes to the same thing. Only death can wipe out the disgrace.
CHANTER: Kuheiji is startled by her words.
[KUHEIJI]: What is Ohatsu talking about? Why should Tokubei kill himself? Well, if he kills himself, I’ll take good care of you after he’s gone! I think you’ve fallen for me too!
[OHATSU]: That’s most generous of you, I’m sure. But would you object if, by way of thanks for your kindness, I killed you? Could I go on living even a moment if separated from Toku? Kuheiji, you dirty thief! Anyone hearing your silly lies can only suspect you. I’m sure that Toku intends to die with me, as I with him.
CHANTER: She taps with her foot, and Tokubei, weeping, takes it in his hands and reverently touches it to his forehead. He embraces her knees and sheds tears of love. She too can hardly conceal her emotions. Though no word is spoken, answering each other heart to heart, they silently weep. That no one knows makes it sadder still. Kuheiji feels uncomfortable.
[KUHEIJI]: The wind’s against us today. Let’s get out of here. The whores in this place are certainly peculiar—they seem to have an aversion to customers like us with plenty of money to spend. Let’s stop at the Asa House and have a drink there. We’ll rattle around a couple of gold pieces, then go home to bed. Oh—my wallet is so heavy I can hardly walk.
CHANTER: Spewing forth all manner of abuse, they noisily depart. The host and his wife call the servants.
[HOST]: It’s time to put out the lights for the night. Lay out beds for the guests who are staying on. Ohatsu, you sleep upstairs. Get to bed early.
[OHATSU] (to herself): Master, mistress, I shall probably never see you again. Farewell. Farewell to all the servants too.
CHANTER: Thus inwardly taking leave, she goes to her bedchamber. Later they will learn that this was a parting for life; how pitiful the foolish hearts of men who do not realize the truth in time!
[HOST]: See that the fire is out under the kettle. Don’t let the mice get at the relishes.
CHANTER: They shut the place and bar the gate. Hardly have their heads touched their pillows than all are snoring merrily. So short is the night that before they’ve had a chance to dream, two o’clock in the morning has come. Ohatsu is dressed for death, a black cloak dark as the ways of love thrown over her kimono of spotless white. She tiptoes to the staircase and looks down. Tokubei shows his face from under the porch. He beckons, nods, points, communicating his intent without a word. Below the stairs a servant girl is sleeping. A hanging lantern brightly shines. Ohatsu in desperation attaches her fan to a palm-leaf broom and, from the second step of the staircase, attempts in vain to extinguish the flame. At last, by stretching every inch, she puts it out, only to tumble suddenly down the stairs. The lamp is out, and in the darkness the servant girl turns in her sleep. Trembling, the lovers grope for each other—a fearful moment. The host awakens in his room at the back.
[HOST]: What was that noise just now? Servants! The night lamp has gone out. Get up and light it!
CHANTER: The servant girl, aroused, sleepily rubs her eyes and gets up from bed stark naked.
[SERVANT]: I can’t find the flint box.
CHANTER: She wanders about the room searching, and Ohatsu, faint with terror, dodges this way and that to avoid her. At last she catches Tokubei’s hand, and softly they creep to the entranceway. They unfasten the latch, but the hinges creak, and frightened by the noise, they hesitate. Just then the maid begins to strike the flints; they time their actions to the rasping sound, and with each rasp open the door farther until, huddled together and their sleeves twisted round them, they go out the door one after the other, feeling as though they were treading on a tiger’s tail. They exchange glances and cry out for joy, happy that they are to die—a painful, heartrending sight. The life left to them now is as brief as sparks that fly from blocks of flint.
The journey from Dōjima to the Sonezaki Shrine.
CHANTER:
Farewell to this world, and to the night farewell.
We who walk the road to death, to what should we be likened?
To the frost by the road that leads to the graveyard,
Vanishing with each step we take ahead:
How sad is this dream of a dream!
[TOKUBEI]:
Ah, did you count the bell? Of the seven strokes
That mark the dawn, six have sounded.
The remaining one will be the last echo
We shall hear in this life.
[OHATSU]: It will echo the bliss of nirvana.
Tokubei, concealed by his hat, and Ohatsu, her face hidden by the white scarf. (Photograph courtesy of Barbara Curtis Adachi Collection, C. V. Starr East Asian Library, Columbia University)
CHANTER:
Farewell, and not to the bell alone—
They look a last time on the grass, the trees, the sky.
The clouds, the river go by unmindful of them;
The Dipper’s bright reflection shines in the water.
[TOKUBEI]:
Let’s pretend that Umeda Bridge
Is the bridge the magpies built16
Across the Milky Way, and make a vow
To be husband and wife stars for eternity.
[OHATSU]: I promise. I’ll be your wife forever.
CHANTER:
They cling together—the river waters
Will surely swell with the tears they shed.
Across the river, in a teahouse upstairs,
Some revelers, still not gone to bed,
Are loudly talking under blazing lamps—
No doubt gossiping about the good or bad
Of this year’s crop of lovers’ suicides;
Their hearts sink to hear these voices.
&nb
sp; [TOKUBEI]:
How strange! but yesterday, even today,
We spoke as if such things did not concern us.
Tomorrow we shall figure in their gossip.
If the world will sing about us, let it sing.
CHANTER:
This is the song that now they hear.
“I’m sure you’ll never have me for your wife,
I know my love means nothing to you . . .”
Yes, for all our love, for all our grieving,
Our lives, our lots, have not been as we wished.
Never, until this very day, have we known
A single night of heart’s relaxation—
Instead, the tortures of an ill-starred love.
“What is this bond between us?
I cannot forget you.
But you would shake me off and go—
I’ll never let you!
Kill me with your hands, then go.
I’ll never release you!”
So she said in tears.17
[OHATSU]: Of all the many songs, that one, tonight!
[TOKUBEI]: Who is it singing? We who listen.
[BOTH]: Suffer the ordeal of those before us.
CHANTER:
They cling to each other, weeping bitterly.
Any other night would not matter
If tonight were only a little longer,
But the heartless summer night, as is its wont,
Breaks as cockcrows hasten their last hour.
[TOKUBEI]: It will be worse if we wait for dawn. Let us die in the wood of Tenjin.18
CHANTER: He leads her by the hand. At Umeda Embankment, the night ravens.
Tokubei and Ohatsu walking toward their death. (Photograph courtesy of Barbara Curtis Adachi Collection, C. V. Starr East Asian Library, Columbia University)
[TOKUBEI]: Tomorrow our bodies may be their meal.
[OHATSU]:
It’s strange, this is your unlucky year19
Of twenty-five, and mine of nineteen.
It’s surely proof how deep are our ties
That we who love each other are cursed alike.