[SERVANT]: It’s Rin. I’ve come to take Madam Otane home.
CHANTER: She enters with a lighted lantern. Yukaemon carefully examines the face caught in the light and sees that it is the maid.
[YUKAEMON]: How demeaning, and how disgusting! I was about to break my fast to eat a sardine!35
CHANTER: Without so much as looking back, he runs outside. The illusion in the dark was lovely.
Act 2
Scene 1: Four months later, on the road from Edo to Tottori.
CHANTER (song):
“See the splendid horse
With a daimyō’s wicker trunk,
Seven layers of cushions
And a riding seat above.
First we’ll lay the cushions on,
Then we’ll put the young lord on top.”
This is the song the drivers cheerfully hum, leading their horses the hundred leagues of the Tōkaidō. The cherries are in blossom, and the soldiers in the van of the brilliant procession carry lances—plain, single-pronged, and cross-pointed; their helmets sport crimson-dyed yak tails from China; their robes are magenta; and the fish that they eat is sea bream.36 Needless to say, these lancers are samurai. The lackeys carry spears with sheaths cylindrical as the bowls from which they drank their saké this morning, or round as a girl’s braided head,37 shaking, shaking, shaking white snow over Fuji and Asama that they now leave behind. The road is as long as the shafts of their many lances; the sheaths are festooned with rooster plumes.38 Men lead Mochizuki horses famous west of the Barrier.39 The horses’ bits jingle, jingle, jangle, and now there come riding on pack steeds to the beat of the same rhythm the night guards,40 the inspectors, the samurai commanders, and the master of ceremonies. Streams of pennants flap on their staffs before and behind the chief of the ensigns. The world is at peace; the waves are calm in the seas all around; the wind in the sky has abated.
“—Look, there by the halberds you can see the doctors and philosophers!” Everybody, pundit and ignoramus alike, gapes at the endless procession of tent pegs, lacquered boxes on poles, rattan-wound bows and black-varnished bows, in numbers beyond reckoning, unpainted bows and half-blackened bows, quivers, arrow cases and arrow holders, cases of the commander’s armor covered with double lids, and stands for his helmets.
It seems just yesterday they took the road to the East, but more than a year has passed since they left their province. All has gone smoothly; they have safely returned with the Seven Ceremonial Articles:41 a wicker hat borne aloft on a pole, a long-handled umbrella in its case, an emblem to mark the general’s horse (a ball of falcon feathers, true to the name of the clan, Tottori).42 The horse the daimyō rides and the spare horse, too, neigh in high spirits at the northern wind of their native heaths. The rear of the procession is brought up by a pair of lancers.
His lordship has been away from his province for a long time, and his return brings joy to his deputy. When a prince acts in princely fashion, his subjects will be true subjects. New casks of sake are opened, and singing greets his lordship as he enters his province, where not even needles from the beach pines scatter,43 in a land that will last ten thousand generations, a land that will last forever.
Men of the household, high and low alike, meet again their parents, wives, and children after a year’s separation, and the happy tidings fly here and there. For everyone, down to the lowliest spear carriers, lackeys, and menials, this is a time of exchanging presents and souvenirs and of noisy celebration.
Among those returning is Ogura Hikokurō. At the moment of the departure from Edo, he was singled out for his service and achievements of the past few years and granted a special increase in stipend as well as a larger retinue of attendants and grooms. He and his family—his son Bunroku, Otane, and Ofuji—are overjoyed to be together again.
Masayama Sangohei, the daimyō’s equerry and husband of Hikokurō’s sister, is another in the returning party. He has sent a messenger to Otane.
Scene 2: Hikokuro’s house.
[MESSENGER] (speaking for Sangohei): I am sure you must be delighted to see your husband again after the long separation and to learn that he has safely escorted his lordship here. I share these feelings. I had planned to offer you a souvenir from Edo, but nothing struck me as really unusual. For want of anything better, I am sending with this messenger some hemp thread.44 It’s a specialty of Edo—they call it Kantō hemp. I realize that it is not much of a gift, but while we were on the road, a rumor spread among his lordship’s staff that during his absence you had taken to spinning hemp thread. I find now that I’m back that the rumor is in circulation here too. I am therefore taking the liberty of offering you this humble present.
CHANTER: Hardly has he finished speaking than other messengers arrive.
[MAN A]: Who sent you with this present?
[MAN B]: It’s from a Mr. Something-or-other, a souvenir for Madam Otane.
CHANTER: Each present arriving strikes terror into Otane’s heart. She wonders whether her husband too may not have heard the rumors, but looking at his face, she can detect no sign of suspicion.
[HIKOKURŌ]: Please help unpack the baggage. We must choose suitable presents for everybody and distribute them accordingly. Oh, I forgot—I should go immediately to pay my respects to my father-in-law. Bring me my hakama.
CHANTER: His wife answers yes and at once goes inside. Her sister Ofuji brushes past entering the room. Ofuji catches Hikokurō’s sleeve.
[OFUJI]: You are certainly the most ungallant man. Why didn’t you ever answer the two letters I sent you in Edo? Here, I’ve thought over everything very carefully, and I’ve written down exactly what I feel in this letter. I ask you please to take some notice of the contents, whether or not you welcome them.
CHANTER: She pushes a sealed letter into the fold of her brother-in-law’s kimono. Hikokurō recoils with an expression of distaste.
[HIKOKURŌ]: Have you gone out of your mind? Yes, I know, when I was first considering marriage to your sister there was some talk of marrying you instead, but nothing ever came of it, and your sister and I are now husband and wife. All that took place more than ten years ago, and we’re now rearing a son. I can’t possibly divorce Otane to marry you, no matter how much you may care for me. I refuse even to hold such a letter in my hand.
CHANTER: He throws down the letter and goes to the gate. Otane, observing from the inside room what has happened, boldly marches out, snatches up the letter, and thrusts it into her kimono.
[OFUJI]: Wait! That letter is very important. I don’t want anybody else to see it.
CHANTER: Ofuji clings fast to her sister, but Otane kicks her fiercely to the ground. She picks up a palm-leaf broom and hits her sister until Ofuji’s shrieks of pain bring Bunroku and the maids running up.
Ofuji catching Hikokurō’s sleeve. (Photograph courtesy of Barbara Curtis Adachi Collection, C. V. Starr East Asian Library, Columbia University)
[BUNROKU]: I don’t know what this is about, but please excuse me.
CHANTER: He grasps Otane’s arm and wrenches away the broom. Otane snatches up a horsewhip tied to the baggage and lashes Ofuji again and again, as if determined to split her head and face. Ofuji’s voice rises in a howl of pain.
[OFUJI]: You’re hurting me! You’ll kill me! Help! CHANTER: She screams, in tears. Bunroku grabs the whip.
[BUNROKU]: Mother, I don’t understand what’s going on. If you have a quarrel with Aunt Ofuji, please let it be with words. She may lose consciousness if you continue beating her like that. Then what will be your excuse?
CHANTER: He speaks harshly.
[OTANE]: I don’t care if I kill her. I’ve heard her say that she was in love with her sister’s husband. She admitted sending him letters to Edo. Here, look what I’ve found.
CHANTER: She tears open the seal and unfolds the letter.
[OTANE]: Do you still think I’m lying? Or do you think it doesn’t matter even if it’s the truth? Here is what she writes in her letter: “Divorce my sister. Se
nd her away and then we’ll be married!” Look! She’s even torn off her fingernail to the quick and enclosed it in the letter!45 Read it for yourself, and see whether or not I’m making it up. How I loathe her! She makes me furious!
CHANTER: She flies at her sister. Seizing her hair, she twists it round and round in her hands, and pins the tresses under her knee.
[OTANE]: You hateful woman! I’ve been waiting for my husband for an eternity, the whole year he’s been away, counting the months, watching the stars—my husband, my childhood sweetheart, for whom I wouldn’t change my parents or a child. At last this morning I saw his face, and just when I was rejoicing that we’d be sleeping together until next year, you had the nerve to order him to send me away! You animal! It infuriates me to let you live!
CHANTER: Otane hits Ofuji, not caring whether her blows land on her sister’s eyes or nose.
[OFUJI]: I have all the excuses in the world. Please, everybody, take her off me. I’m at my last gasp.
[BUNROKU]: First let’s hear your excuses.
CHANTER: He restrains Otane forcibly.
[OTANE]: If your excuses aren’t believable this time, I’ll kill you. Let’s hear them, if you have any.
CHANTER: She pulls Ofuji to her feet and pushes her away with understandable distaste. Her sister, breathing painfully, smoothes her hair, holding back her tears.
[OFUJI]: I can reveal my reasons, Otane, only when the two of us are alone together. Please leave the room, everybody.
CHANTER: At her request, all the others rise and withdraw.
[OTANE]: Now, no more innuendos—come out with your reasons plainly.
CHANTER: Ofuji sheds copious tears.
[OFUJI]: Otane. It was out of sisterly duty that I sent the letter to Hikokurō asking him to divorce you. I wanted to save your life. I’m sure you know what I mean without my having to say it. You’ve been rather friendly with that drum teacher Gen’emon, haven’t you?
CHANTER: Otane flies at Ofuji and covers her mouth.
[OTANE]: Be still! You speak so casually, but it’s no laughing matter. What have you seen that makes you say such a thing? Show me your proof!
[OFUJI]: I don’t need any proof. You’re four months pregnant. Whose child is it? And who’s been taking that abortion medicine that your maid Orin’s bought for you? You never guessed anybody knew, but the whole fief is gossiping about nothing else. I saw a minute ago how all those people brought you the same souvenir from Edo—hemp thread! I knew that they’d be coming to Hikokurō to tell him what was going on, to call his attention, as his friends, to the situation. You and you alone are responsible for destroying your family’s honor and your husband’s reputation as a samurai.
CHANTER: She weeps aloud. Otane is at a loss for words.
[OTANE]: I never listened when you urged me not to drink. The liquor was my enemy.
CHANTER: These are her only words; she can do nothing now but weep. Ofuji brushes away the welling tears.
[OFUJI]: Your repentance comes months too late. Now you know what I was worrying about. You are disgraced beyond redemption. I’ve wanted at least to save your life, and I’ve considered every possible scheme. I thought that if I could persuade Hikokurō to break with you and give you divorce papers, you could give birth to your baby in the middle of a public highway, and it still wouldn’t be a crime. You couldn’t be killed for it. So I tried, in my poor, feminine way, to help you. I made advances to my brother-in-law and acted like a loose woman. It wasn’t only out of sisterly duty to you, however. I thought it was my duty to Mother. Poor Mother! I’m sure you can’t have forgotten her last instructions when, just two days before she died, she called us to her pillow, one on either side. “I’ve taught you, ever since you were children, the proper conduct for women. You’ve learned to read, to sew, to spin thread and to stretch cotton wool.46 Any girl who knows that much has nothing to be ashamed of. But the most important test of a woman’s training comes after she’s married. You must treat your parents-in-law with the same devotion you have shown to your own parents and your husband’s brothers and sisters as if they were your own. When you are alone together with any other man, you are not so much as to lift your head and look at him. It doesn’t matter who the man may be—a servant, a member of the household, a stranger, an old man, or a boy—when your husband’s away, you must observe the proprieties. A woman who’s doesn’t do this may know the Four Books and the Five Classics by heart, but she won’t be of any use to anybody. Remember your mother’s dying words. Let them be your Analects and never forget them.”
Those words have sunk into my bones and are engraved on my heart. I can’t forget them. Then Mother went on, this time speaking to me, “Your sister has inherited her father’s disposition. She’s enjoyed drinking ever since she was in pinafores. Ofuji, you must act as her mother and reprimand her in my place.” These were her last words. Every day, morning and night, I repeat those last instructions before her memorial tablet, just as if they were holy writing. Have you forgotten them so quickly? To think that you would want to bring grief to your sister in this world and suffering on Mother’s dead body in the world of the hereafter!
CHANTER: She utters words of bitter reproach and weeps aloud in her misery. Otane is speechless, choked by tears.
[OTANE]: I see now that the saké I enjoyed so much was a poisonous brew compounded of the sins of a previous existence. As soon as my drunkenness from the liquor had worn off, I decided to kill myself, but I wanted so badly to see my husband’s face once again that I kept putting off my suicide from one day to the next. And now I have exposed my shame to the world. I wonder if I have been bewitched by some horrible demon.
CHANTER: At these repeated words of vain regret, the sisters, embracing, weep aloud with unrestrained voices, a pitiful sight in their utter helplessness. Just then a loud uproar is heard by the gate.
[OTANE]: It must be a fight. Let’s leave for a while until it quiets down.
CHANTER: After they depart, Hikokurō’s sister Yura enters, pursuing her brother with an outstretched lance.
[YURA]: I know I’m only your younger sister, Hikokurō, but I’m the wife of a samurai, Masayama Sangohei. Something has happened that goes against all decency, and I won’t tolerate it, even though it involves my own brother. What do you say to that?
CHANTER: Hikokurō glares at her.
[HIKOKURŌ]: You impudent little hussy! What nerve you have to talk to me, your older brother, about decency or indecency! This is the height of impertinence! Out with your accusations! Out with them, or I’ll twist your arms and that lance of yours, and break them both together!
CHANTER: The words are spoken in fury. Yura laughs at him mockingly.
[YURA]: Admirably said, Mr. Weak-Kneed! I’ll tell you what’s happened. Your wife has had a secret affair with Miyaji Gen’emon, a drum teacher from Kyoto, and the whole fief is buzzing with it now. That’s why everybody gave her souvenirs of hemp thread—to call your attention to what was going on. But you pretend not to have heard anything because you’re unable to avenge yourself on your wife’s lover. My husband has ordered me out of his house. He said he couldn’t go on living with the sister of Weak-Kneed Hikokurō. “You can return,” he told me, “when your brother shows a little backbone. Then, and only then, will we be husband and wife again.” We’re separated now, and I’ve come to you. Well, my weak-kneed brother, are you going to reunite me with my husband or aren’t you? It’s up to you.
CHANTER: She holds out the lance and brandishes it, seemingly ready to run him through if he flinches. Hikokurō claps his hands in amazement.
[HIKOKURŌ]: This is incredible—I suspected nothing! I heard people talk about that Gen’emon, or whatever his name is, but I’ve never actually laid eyes on him. He’s never set foot inside this house. What proof do you have?
[YURA]: Do you suppose that a man like Sangohei would make accusations without evidence? Your friend Isobe Yukaemon, suspecting that something was going on, used to come h
ere, pretending it was merely to visit. He caught them one night in a secret rendezvous and cut off their sleeves. The affair has become a public scandal throughout the fief. It’s impossible to hide it any longer, even with the best will in the world. But some things not even a close friend can tell a man to his face, so Yukaemon decided to tell my husband instead of going to you. Look!
CHANTER: She produces from her kimono the sleeves of the guilty pair, and throws them in front of Hikokurō.
[YURA]: Do you have any doubts now?
CHANTER: Her face is livid. Hikokurō picks up the sleeves and examines them.
[HIKOKURŌ]: I’ve never seen this man’s sleeve before, but I remember the woman’s sleeve very well. Yura, I promise you I shall lose no time in vindicating your honor. Come with me.
CHANTER: He leads her into the sitting room. Everyone in the house has heard their conversation, and a breathless silence has fallen. Hikokurō speaks quite calmly.
[HIKOKURŌ]: Otane, you and the other women come here. Bunroku, I want you too.
CHANTER: They all know that so curt a summons indicates some disaster. They slowly come before Hikokurō and bow their heads. Their bodies are chilled, their spirits faint, they can scarcely breathe. Among them, wretched creature, is Otane, fated on account of an evil deed, not of her intent or desire, yet blamable only on herself, to be impaled on a blade wielded by her husband, as she fully expects. All her long, patient waiting for her husband’s return has been in vain. Never, until this very moment when she is about to be killed, did she imagine that the pillow she shared with her husband on the night before his departure in the previous year would be their last together. At this thought, she wants to look once more at her husband’s face, but her eyes are too blinded with tears to see him. She weeps, her head hanging. Her husband throws the sleeves in front of her.
[HIKOKURŌ]: I’m sure you’ve all heard Yura’s accusations. Well, woman, do you have an excuse? No? I didn’t think so—you can’t answer. Ofuji, I presume you know who brought them together. In crimes of immorality, the go-between shares the lovers’ guilt.
Early Modern Japanese Literature: An Anthology, 1600–1900 Page 41
