by A. L. Sadler
THREE DEVILS: Here we are!
EMMA: If any sinners arrive just pitch them down into Hell and torture them.
DEVILS: We will.
EMMA: But who is there to save the sinners who have done no sin?
SEIRAI: Here stand I, Seirai, a mighty fowler in the Shaba-world. I was intended to live to a good old age, but the Wind of Impermanence swept me away, and here I am on the Dark Road.
SONG:
Regretfully he leaves his old familiar life,
And setting out on the strange road on foot,
Ere long he comes to traverse the Six Ways.
SEIRAI: It seems that I now stand at the crossroads of the Six Ways, and must look about to consider how I may get to heaven.
DEVIL: I smell mankind! Ah! As I thought, here comes a sinner. I must announce the matter. A sinner has arrived, my lord.
EMMA: Then quickly torture him!
DEVIL: Most certainly! Now then, my sinner! Heaven is far distant, but Hell very nigh; so haste your steps. Ho-ho! You differ from the common run of sinners; you seem amused. Who were you when you dwelt among mankind?
SEIRAI: I was Seirai, a mighty fowler in the Shaba-world.
DEVIL: If you were a fowler, you were one who took life both by night and day. Your sins were very great. I certainly must torture you in Hell.
SEIRAI: No, no! My sins were not so great. I pray you let me go to Paradise.
DEVIL: That I cannot. You must come before the King of Hell. My lord!
EMMA: What is it now?
DEVIL: This sinner was a fowler in the Shaba-world; and so I say his sins are great, for he has taken life continually, and must go down to Hell. But he says it is not so. What is to be done?
EMMA: Bring him here to me!
DEVIL: So I will. Come hither now, for Emma summons you.
SEIRAI: At your command.
EMMA: Now then, you sinner! You did nothing but catch birds in the Shaba-world. You are a great rascal, and must go down to Hell.
SEIRAI: ’Tis true I caught them; but this I did only to feed my hawks, and so sustain their life. What harm was there in that?
EMMA: And these hawks; they are birds, too, are they not?
SEIRAI: Most certainly they are, my lord.
EMMA: In that case you are hardly much to blame.
SEIRAI: Indeed ’tis so. The blame is with the hawks, and not with me. So let me go to Heaven.
EMMA: But as I do not yet know the taste of birds, and on this Mountain of Shide there are many of them, do you catch some for me with that pole of yours, and then I will consider your request.
SEIRAI: That will be easy enough. I will soon bring you some.
CHORUS: Lo! Now he goes to catch the birds. From the southern plain of the Mountain of Shide, many flocks of birds come flying, and as soon as he sees them he darts his pole in among them and takes them. Then he roasts them and offers them to Emma.
EMMA: Ha! I will try them. (Eats.) How good they are, forsooth!
SEIRAI: Come on, you devils, too!
DEVILS (eating and smacking their lips): Good! Good! How tasty!
EMMA: I have never tasted anything I liked better in all my life. So as a reward I permit you to go back to the Shaba-world, and catch birds again for three more years.
SEIRAI: How can I thank you!
CHORUS: Released, he goes back to the Shaba-world, for three years more to catch his birds again. Ducks, pheasants, wild geese, storks, and others, too. For even the small birds he gets specified; and so returns. And Emma, in regret at losing him, gives him the jeweled diadem from off his head. Seirai bows low in gratitude, and starts his journey to the upper air.
THE PRIEST’S STAFF
PRIEST: I, who appear before you, am a priest living in the country. I happened to have some business in the capital, and at the same time I ordered a staff to be made, and as it is now time for it to be finished, I have come today to fetch it. Well, well! So we go along! There’s no more pleasant life in this world than a monk’s! I think I’ll go and pay my respects to some Buddha, and stay there a while before I go back again. Ah, here we are at the maker of staves. Ho, there! Is the master at home?
MASTER: Who is there?
PRIEST: It is I who have come!
MASTER: Oh, is it the monk who ordered the staff?
PRIEST: It is, and is it ready yet?
MASTER: It is quite finished. Please wait a moment, and I will bring it and show you.
PRIEST: Ah, good. Please do so.
MASTER: Here it is.
PRIEST: Well, that’s excellent! It is exactly as I ordered it.
MASTER: Indeed, I have taken great pains with it. I may say it is much finer stuff than the ones I showed you before. I must have a joke on this staff, you see.
PRIEST: A very good one too!
MASTER: How very white the wood of it is!
PRIEST: Since it is not lacquered it can’t be covered.
MASTER: Capital! Capital!
PRIEST: Can you ornament it in lacquer?
MASTER: When this staff is broken, what will you do then?
PRIEST: I can only think of one thing at a time.
MASTER: Better and better! Really you are exceedingly witty! Now I am carrying on this occupation, but what I have always wished is to forsake the world and become a monk. I pray you come in and partake of my humble meal, that I may enjoy the opportunity of hearing some of your holy teaching. Do, I beg you!
PRIEST: Truly, it is the business of us monks to give exhortation. Yes, I will come in. And kindly bring the staff with you. Here we are.
MASTER: Yes, your reverence, as I have just stated, I should so much like to become a recluse, and I was hoping that you might be able to take me as your disciple, so that we might be able to travel about the country together.
PRIEST: Oh, to forsake the world and shave your head and become my disciple is an easy thing enough, but first you should take counsel with your relations, your brothers, and your wife, for if people become recluses without proper reflection they sometimes repent of it afterwards. For when you become a monk you have to observe the Law of Buddha, and to study the Sutras and Mantras, and–ah–be careful not to misconduct yourself, you know. But if you do the things that you ought to do, you will have a mind quite free from care, and wherever you wish to go you can go, and wherever you wish to stay you can stay! Ah, and if you rid yourself of that nasty, grasping, envious, avaricious desire, your mind will be so devoid of all trouble that you will become just like a Buddha.
MASTER: Ah, how true, how true! But this wish of mine is no sudden one, for I have cherished it for a long time. I quite understand everything, so please make me your disciple at once.
PRIEST: You are sure you quite understand and agree to everything?
MASTER: I am quite sure.
PRIEST: Then I will shave your head. And your relations and your wife are also quite of the same opinion?
MASTER: I consulted with my womenfolk some time ago, and they are quite willing that I should do as I please.
PRIEST: Then that is sufficient! So prepare yourself.
MASTER: Very well! I will have my head shaved.
WIFE: My man seems to have gone out of the house with that monk who came to get the staff he had ordered. I wonder what they are doing! They are a long time about it. I will go and see. Ya-a-a-h! Is that you making yourself into a monk? Whose doing is this? This monk wants to shave your head, does he? I’ll teach you, you—!
PRIEST: What does she say? I thought you said your wife was quite willing?
WIFE: Who dares to say so? What d’you take me for? Become a priest indeed! You get off back where you came from, wherever that is! Off with you! You make me mad!
PRIEST: What’s this! I didn’t persuade him against his will. He said it had always been his secret desire.
WIFE: That’s a lie! You dirty, swindling bonze! I’ll give you something!
PRIEST: Oh! Oh! Don’t! Please excuse me! This is very unpleasant!
WIFE: Yah! You! You thought you would become a monk without saying anything to me, did you? What did you think I was going to do? Eh?
MASTER: Oh, no! It was because this monk told me what a pleasant life it was, and invited me to become one. So I thought I would shave my head.
WIFE: Nonsense! Don’t tell me that tale! Well? What now?
MASTER: Oh, I’ve changed my mind now. So pray excuse me!
WIFE: Get away, you wretch! I won’t excuse you!
UNDER THE HAT
PRIEST: Though I think myself a Buddha, what do others think, I wonder?
CHORUS: What do they think, I wonder?
PRIEST: I who thus speak am a noble recluse. And as I have never beheld the capital, I am now making my way thither.
PILGRIM-SONG: Leaving my ancient temple where I have dwelt so long, thus I set out on foot and have come thus far. Hastening my steps I have arrived at this place, and as the sun is setting I would stay a while and pass the night in this house. Ho! Within there!
HOST: Who is it that calls?
PRIEST: I am a traveling recluse, and as dusk is coming on I pray you to give me a night’s lodging.
HOST: That would be easy enough, but it is a rule of this house that no lodging shall be given to solitary recluses. So I must decline.
PRIEST: That rule is reasonable enough, but my conduct is not bad like that of some recluses. So please allow me to stop here for one night.
HOST: No, I cannot.
PRIEST: Are you sure you cannot?
HOST: Why, haven’t I told you so?
PRIEST: Well, if you won’t, don’t.
HOST: This priest is too much!
PRIEST: Well, if you won’t let me have a lodging, am I to do without one? But I haven’t anywhere to go, so I must devise a plan for staying here. Hullo, there!
HOST: Who is it now? Why it’s that priest again.
PRIEST: It is. I say, I don’t care at all where I sleep, but I want to leave this hat of mine somewhere. Won’t you let me leave it here for tonight?
HOST: Oh, I don’t mind your hat. You can put it where you like.
PRIEST: But I am very particular about this hat. Please let me leave it here. In the middle of this room.
HOST: H’m, as you please.
PRIEST: Much obliged, I’m sure. Then I will put it down here.
HOST: Very well. Come and get it as soon as you like tomorrow morning.
PRIEST: Thanks. Good-bye. There! I’ve got my lodging. I’ll put this hat on and spend the night under it. Ha, it’s time to say the Sutra. To prayers.
HOST: That’s strange! It sounds as if someone was chanting the Sutra in that room over there. What can it be? Why, what’s this? It’s that priest, sitting in the middle of the room with his hat on, looking like a mushroom that has sprouted there. Hullo! Is that you, priest?
PRIEST: It is indeed.
HOST: And who gave you leave to stay there?
PRIEST: I say, mine host, I have something I want to I ask you.
HOST: Well, what is it?
PRIEST: This house; to whom does it belong?
HOST: To me, of course.
PRIEST: And is everything in it subject to your disposal?
HOST: Of course it is.
PRIEST: Whose hat, then, is this?
HOST: It is your hat.
PRIEST: But did you not consent to its being here till tomorrow?
HOST: Yes; the hat only.
PRIEST: The hat is to remain here. Granted. And as what is under the hat is at the disposal of the hat, I have its permission to spend the night under it.
HOST: Well I never! Hear the fine logic of this confounded recluse! And how about what is outside the hat?
PRIEST: Oh, as that’s in your room, you can pull it off or shave it off, or do what you like with it.
HOST: Can I really?
PRIEST: Certainly.
HOST: Then this is outside.
(Pulls.)
PRIEST: Yo-ho!
HOST: Yes, and this is outside.
PRIEST: Ha! I see.
HOST: Well, this is an amusing priest, to be sure. So I will give him a lodging for the night. I say!
PRIEST: What is it?
HOST: It is too bad to turn you out now, so you can stay here for the night. Take off your hat and make yourself comfortable.
PRIEST: Ha, mine host, you want to get me to take off my hat, and then you will turn me out.
HOST: No, no. I speak the truth. I swear it by Hachiman the War God!
PRIEST: In that case I will take it off its landlord. Ah, that’s better. What a nuisance it was.
HOST: What a humorous priest you are. I will stay here and have a chat with you to-night.
PRIEST: I shall be most honored, I’m sure.
HOST: I say, your reverence, shall we have a drop of liquor?
PRIEST: Thank you very much, but you see I observe the Five Prohibitions, and especially the prohibition against drinking; so I must be particularly on my guard against it. But I am very much obliged to you all the same.
HOST: A most admirable recluse! I never saw such a one. Well, I must take my night-cap by myself then. You’re sure you won’t join me?
PRIEST: I couldn’t think of it! I couldn’t think of it! But I say, mine host, what is that dish over there?
HOST: That is bean-curd and sea-weed.
PRIEST: Then I will take a little of that.
HOST: Oh, I beg your pardon. Certainly.
PRIEST: And please pour some “sake” over the seaweed.
HOST: But I thought you were an abstainer?
PRIEST: Oh, “sake” sauce is another matter. There is no need to abstain from that. Put some more on it, please.
HOST: That is rather more than “sake” sauce I fancy.
PRIEST: Well, mine host, you have broken the rule of your house about taking in priests, so I may perhaps break one of the Five Prohibitions. Let us have a drink then.
HOST: Right. We can have a pleasant evening over this liquor. (They sing.) And now let us have an additional course. (They dance.)
PRIEST: Ah, that’s good! That’s very charming. That’s excellent.
HOST: Won’t you give us a dance too?
PRIEST: But I am a recluse, you see, so I don’t know how to do anything except chant the Sutras.
HOST: Oh, anything will do. If you will only get on your legs and do something.
PRIEST: All right then, I’ll dance.
(Dances and sings.)
HOST: Excellent! Very amusing, indeed!
PRIEST: Now, one more. I say, mine host, it will soon be daybreak, so I will give you another dance if you will be good enough to sing the accompaniment.
HOST: What shall I sing then?
PRIEST: Sing the Jizo dance.
HOST: All right. (Sings.) Now we dance the Jizo dance!
PRIEST: The place where Jizo dwells is Mount Karada in the Western Paradise.
In Hell and in the worlds of Pretas, Beasts, Asuras, and Men,
Everywhere he wishes to deliver mankind plunged deep in sin.
With his staff he lifts them up,
Calmly, quietly he saves them.
Once in ancient days Prince Shaka,
He the much-revered Nyorai,
Stretching out his golden fingers,
Ah, how blessed! Ah, how gracious!
Three times stroked the head of Jizo.
Saying to him, “Now from henceforth;
To thy care are men committed.”
So on men he takes compassion,
Wheresoe’er they may have wandered.
Though no cup of tea we offer,
He will come into this chamber,
With a seven “to”* pot of liquor,
On his festal day especially,
Twenty-four cups he will tipple,
Then, his eyes with drink a-glitter,
Staggering, rolling, striding widely
From one side unto the other,
He will
dance, the reverend Jizo.
That is how I like to see him!
Footnote
* Nearly four gallons.
THE OINTMENT VENDOR
FIRST VENDOR: I am an ointment vendor of Kamakura. I consider my ointment the most renowned in the country, but they say there is also a wonderful ointment in the capital, so I am betaking myself thither to see how it compares with mine. And so here I am jogging along. Ah, what a fine day it is! I feel glad to be alive. But it is very lonely to have no companion, so I think I will wait for someone to come along, and then we can journey on together.
SECOND VENDOR: I am the famous ointment vendor of the capital. I fancy there is no more skilled compounder of ointment in the capital than I, but I hear there is a wonderful ointment in Kamakura, so I am on my way thither to try if it is as potent as mine, so here I am. But it is very lonely to travel by oneself.
FIRST VENDOR: Ah, what a smell of turpentine! I wonder what it can be. Ya-ah! You fellow! What are you bumping into me for? Isn’t this beach wide enough for you?
SECOND VENDOR: It was you who bumped into me!
FIRST VENDOR: What d’you mean? Whence are you? And whither are you bound?
SECOND VENDOR: I have some business in Kamakura, and so I am proceeding thither. And whither are you going?
FIRST VENDOR: I am an ointment vendor of Kamakura, and I think there is none like mine, but as I have heard there is someone in the capital who has a wonderful ointment too, I am on my way thither to try how it compares with my own.
SECOND VENDOR: Oh, then you are the proprietor of the Kamakura ointment. I have heard of the fame of it, and that is why I have come down to Kamakura.
FIRST VENDOR: Oh, indeed? Yes, my ointment has a long history. I suppose yours has too?
SECOND VENDOR: Yes, mine has also. But I should like to hear about yours.
FIRST VENDOR: Very well, I will tell you all about it. In former days the Shogun Yoritomo had two famous steeds named Ikezuki and Surusumi, and one day, when Surusumi was let out and jumped up into the air, the Shogun cried out to the Daimyos who were with him to stop him, but none of them was able to do so. Then my ancestor of that time stood forth and declared that he could stop him with his ointment, whereupon Yoritomo and all his lords burst out laughing at the idea. “However,” said the Shogun, “stop him if you can.” Then my ancestor, putting a little of his ointment on the end of his finger, and blowing on it, faced the plunging steed, calling to him to come and smell it. Immediately he did so, the horse stopped its rearing and, attracted by the power of the ointment, came quietly up to him to smell it. Then Yoritomo and all his lords burst forth into exclamations of amazement at the potency of the marvellous compound, and inquired what name it bore. “It has no special name,” replied my ancestor, “only, as it draws things, we call it drawing ointment.” “But an ointment like this ought to have a name,” replied Yoritomo, “so, as it can draw a horse, you had better call it the Finest Horse-drawing Ointment of Kamakura.” And since that time there has been no ointment in Kamakura to equal it.
