by A. L. Sadler
YŌKURO: Excuse me, master, but allow me to be so rude as to disagree with you. Is it likely that that simpleton Kakiēmon will find out how to get his red design? And if he does you can easily buy his secret from him for fifty ryo or so. You please leave all that to me and I’ll manage it all right.
GOHEI: Ah yes, I expect you’re not far wrong. Kakiēmon is always in want of money, so probably there won’t be much difficulty.
YŌKURO: And may I ask, master, as a reward for these services of mine, that you consider setting me up in business of my own?
(Watching his master’s face narrowly.)
GOHEI: Come now, Yōkuro, that’s rather too much. You haven’t much to complain about in being associated with a splendid concern like the Aritaya. No, no, you drop that foolish idea of a shop of your own and be content where you are.
(Enter the apprentice Matsutaro from the left, singing.)
MATSUTARO: Oh, are you here, master?
GOHEI: Well, what is it, Matsutaro? Have you some special business?
MATSUTARO: They’re all waiting at Riēmon’s house; and want you to come as soon as you can.
GOHEI: Oh, is that it? Ah, thanks for letting me know. Yes, you’ve done your errand very smartly indeed. I must give you something as an appreciation.
(He takes out some coins from his purse, wraps them in paper, and gives them to him.)
MATSUTARO: Thank you very much. Shall I come with you?
GOHEI: Oh no. I don’t want anyone to come with me. I’ll go alone. And now you can go and buy yourself something you like and then go on home.
MATSUTARO: So you will not need my services. Thank you again, master.
(Runs offjoyfully to the left. Yōkuro stands silent.)
GOHEI: Well, as Matsutaro has come to call me I shall be offat once to meet the potters at Riēmon’s place. You stay here and find out all you possibly can about Kakiēmon and his red decoration.
YŌKURO: Very well, sir. I’ll get into his workshop and see just what he’s up to.
GOHEI: Yes, that’s just what I want.
(Exit to left.)
YŌKURO: It doesn’t look as though he meant to set me up in business for myself, however long I wait, so if Kakiēmon does get his red color I must steal a march on the master and make some money that way.
(O Tané comes in with teacups on a tray.)
O TANÉ: Ah, Yōkuro San, you are very welcome. Has your master gone already?
YŌKURO: Yes, he has just this moment gone. So I will drink the tea.
(Takes the cup and drinks. Just then Sakaida Kakiēmon opens the door of the workshop and comes out. He is an elderly man in working clothes and gazes about him abstractedly.)
KAKIĒMON (looking at the persimmon-tree): When autumn comes then the persimmon too begins to redden. And what a splendid vivid red it is! Ah, there’s a difference between the work of nature and man’s handicraft.
(Turns away in the other direction.)
O TANÉ: Father! Yōkuro San has come.
KAKIĒMON: Yōkuro! Who is Yōkuro? (Turns round with a blank look.) Oh yes, the clerk of the shop. I didn’t remember for the moment. Pray excuse me.
(Sits down on the edge of the veranda of the house.)
YŌKURO: Dear me! I suppose you must behave like this if you are going to do something remarkable.
O TANÉ: The master was here too until just a moment ago.
KAKIĒMON: Well, why didn’t you call me then?
O TANÉ: Why, didn’t you hear me? I banged at the door as hard as I could.
KAKIĒMON: I heard nothing.
O TANÉ: And that’s why the neighbors have given you the nickname of Yumeēmon (the dreamer).
YŌKURO: By the way, Kakiēmon, how is that red enamel getting on?
KAKIĒMON: It’s the one aim of my life to discover; that, but still it eludes me. When I shall get it I don’t know.
YŌKURO: Is that detached room over there your workshop?
KAKIĒMON: Yes, that’s where I keep all my secrets. My patterns and recipes and specimens of enamel.
YŌKURO: I say, won’t you let me see them?
(Makes a move towards the right.)
KAKIĒMON: I allow no one in my workroom.
YŌKURO: But I have some knowledge of these things, and if you let me into your secret I might be able to make some profitable suggestion.
(Pushing Kakiēmon aside he puts out his hand to open the door, but Kakiēmon thrusts him back with some violence and stands in front of the door to block the way.)
KAKIĒMON (sternly): My workroom is under the protection of the Deities. The only being allowed to enter is my daughter O Tsu. No one else must dare to cross the threshold.
YŌKURO (getting up submissively): In that case there shall be no more talk of looking in. So please compose yourself again.
O TANÉ: I hope neither of you have hurt yourselves. My father is unfortunately very quick-tempered. I beg you will excuse him.
YŌKURO: Oh no, the fault was mine. It is I who must beg your pardon. (Kakiēmon locks the door of the workroom and puts the key in his girdle.) Kakiēmon San, if you do get this red decoration, who is the first person you will show it to?
(Kurisaku comes in from the left and stands listening outside the gate.)
KAKIĒMON: That goes without saying. Naturally to Gohei San who has been my kind patron these twenty years and more.
YŌKURO: I know something better than that. You tell me about it as soon as you succeed and I will find someone else who will manage things so that you can make a lot more money out of it than if you trust it to Gohei.
KAKIĒMON: That’s very kind of you, but doing the right thing seems more important to me than making money.
YŌKURO: Those ideas are a bit out of date nowadays. I think you’ll find a little money-making more to the point than this talk about the right thing. Anyhow we’ll talk about that again later on. I must be going now.
O TANÉ: Oh, must you go then?
YŌKURO: Yes, thanks. Kindly excuse my intrusion.
(Exit to the left.)
KAKIĒMON: Ah, what a waste of my precious time. Well, I’ll go up the hill and have a look at the kiln.
(Starts to go when Kurisaku enters.)
KURISAKU: Please wait a moment, master. There is something I want to say to you.
KAKIĒMON: Oh, it can wait, whatever it is, till I have more time.
(Starts off.)
KURISAKU: When the master has time! That’ll never be in this life. It won’t take a moment, so please listen to me.
(Kakiēmon reluctantly sits down. O Tané comes up to Kurisaku.)
O TANÉ: Now please tell father just what you think.
KURISAKU: I’ll speak my mind if I die for it. (Squats down on the ground.) Look here, master! You’re content to go on working for Aritaya, toiling in your dirty clothes to make fine things for him year in and year out, and what’s the result? You spend sleepless nights thinking out how to make those masterpieces of porcelain that you say will hand down your fame to posterity, and all it does is to put money into Aritaya’s pocket and leave you perspiring and in debt. And everyone is loud in his praise, calling him the king of Imari and the paragon of merchants, and so on, and what do you think they call you, master? Why nothing but “that dreamer Kakiēmon” or “that silly old man.”
KAKIĒMON: Well, whatever they say, let them say it.
KURISAKU: Ah, you may not care for yourself, master, but think how painful it is for O Tsu and O Tané. For their sake please do have a little ordinary human ambition.
KAKIĒMO: You’ve spoken well. You mean well, no doubt, and I don’t blame you for saying what you have. But there’s something you haven’t thought of. In this wide world there are always any number of people who can make money, but for more than a hundred and twenty years no one else has set himself to think out a method of making dishes with red enamel decoration. You don’t understand the mind of Kakiēmon: and I doubt whether O Tané does either. It is only O Tsu wh
o really understands and sympathizes with me.
(Goes out of the gate and starts offup the hill with out looking back.)
O TANÉ: Well done, Kurisaku. I am obliged to you.
KURISAKU: Ah, I’m all in a perspiration with trying my hardest to speak so as to please you.
(Wipes his forehead.)
O TANÉ: Please me! Oh, I was murmuring “Bravo, Kurisaku,” to myself all the time.
KURISAKU: Ah, there’s nothing I like better than a smile from you, and I don’t often get one. And if I don’t take advantage of this opportunity to say what I want when you are in such a good humor I am not likely to get another in a hurry. It isn’t easy for me to ask you, but…about yourself ….er….you know what I mean. Can’t you give me a little hope, O Tané San?
O TANÉ (with a suddenly altered expression): Oh, no. Indeed it is very kind of you, but I must beg to decline.
KURISAKU: Do you dislike me so much then?
O TANÉ: No, I don’t dislike you. But when you begin to talk like that you give me an unpleasant feeling, so don’t do it again, please.
KURISAKU: I wonder, if you dislike me so much, that you wear that obi I bought for you every day.
(Pointing to the obi.)
O TANÉ: Because I don’t want to dirty the others I have, so I use this for everyday wear.
KURISAKU: Well, I never! And I so pleased thinking to myself that you wore it because you saw my meaning. The color of that obi is called kuri-ume. Now don’t you understand?
O TANÉ: Oh! It’s called kuri-ume, is it?
KURISAKU: How unfeeling of you not even to notice that. I got it so that when it enfolded your waist it would remind you of my name and how I would like to change places with it.
O TANÉ: Oh! If that’s why you gave it I shall hate to wear it even a moment longer. (Taking it off and flinging it down.) There! You can take it. I don’t want it.
(Takes another obi from the cupboard and puts it on. Kurisaku looks on bitterly.)
KURISAKU: Yes, I see how you really feel now. I can’t stay here any longer.
O TANÉ: Well, do as you please. (Goes on painting the vase.)
KURISAKU: I suppose it will be awkward for the master if I go, but I really can’t stand it any longer. Last night when you were so unpleasant to me I made up my mind I would go, and so I went and packed up my things. (Takes down the old basket from the shelf, crams in a shirt and pair of tabi* and throws it over his shoulder, catching up the obi in his other hand.) There! I’m off. I won’t live any longer! And when the master asks who was the cause of Kurisaku’s end, mind you tell him it was you who killed him. Now I shall hang myself or go out of my mind. Good-bye, O Tané San!
(Walks away dispiritedly. O Tané gets up and goes to the gate and looks after his retreating figure. Then she goes back and resumes her work. Enter O Tsu with a bundle done up in a wrapper. She goes into the house.)
O TANÉ: Ah, elder sister, how are you?
(O Tsu sits down.)
O TSU: I caught sight of Kurisaku just now. Have you been quarrelling with him again?
O TANÉ: Oh, that Kurisaku does nothing but hang around bothering the life out of me, so I really couldn’t help giving him a scolding. That’s all it was.
O TSU: Well, if Kurisaku doesn’t please you, what sort of a man do you want?
O TANÉ: I don’t want a blockhead like that. A nice-looking gentleman like Heisaburo Sama would suit me well enough. Yes, I should like to have a handsome fellow to live with as you have, but I suppose as I’m quite plain I shall have to put up with anything I can I get.
O TSU: That’s where you make a mistake. Now, listen to me. Good looks and a fine appearance are just like a flower in full bloom that soon falls and comes to nothing. Kindness and honesty are what a woman needs most of all in a man; the rest does not matter. If an intelligent fellow like Kurisaku is so infatuated with you as to appear a fool or a simpleton you ought to be thankful for it. If he comes back again be kind to him and ask father’s permission to marry him and live happily with him. Anyone ought to be satisfied with a good man like that.
O TANÉ (looking surprised): Well! Really, elder sister, what can have come over you today to give me a scolding like this? You have never done it before. What’s the matter?
O TSU (looks taken aback for a moment, but then goes on unconcernedly): Oh, nothing at all. It’s only because I am anxious about your future. You mustn’t think I meant to scold you. On the contrary I have got something here that will please you— (taking out of her bundle a gay long-sleeved kimono). When I saw you last you said you would like a kimono with long sleeves, so here is mine. It is not a very good one, but please take it.
O TANÉ: Oh, elder sister, I didn’t say that because I wanted yours. Please keep it.
O TSU: But I have got several others, so you needn’t mind taking it.
O TANÉ: Oh, in that case, though it is too bad to deprive you of it, I should be delighted. (Takes it and bows over it.) Really, it is a beautiful one. I think it will just suit me, don’t you?
O TSU: Just slip it on over the one you’re wearing and see.
O TANÉ: Oh, yes, would you like me to?
(Puts it on. O Tsu brings a mirror for her to see herself.)
O TSU: The bust of two sisters in a mirror. Tableau!
O TANÉ: Ah, yes, “even an ostler in fine clothes.”
(With a very delighted air she takes off the kimono, folds it quickly, and bows low.) Thank you very much, elder sister, for your kindness. But you did not come all this way only on purpose to give me this, did you?
O TSU: Oh, no. There’s something I have to say to father.
O TANÉ: Unfortunately he has gone up the hill to look at the kiln, but I expect he’ll be back soon. It will soon be time for supper, and I must go and buy his liquor. I suppose you aren’t in any hurry to go back.
O TSU: I can’t stay long. I shall go back as soon as I have seen father.
O TANÉ: Then I expect I shall not see you again today, but I shall come to your place and see you in a few days. (Takes the kimono into the inner room and comes out again with a bottle in her hand.) Good-bye, elder sister, don’t hurry away.
(Exit. O Tsu stands looking after her.)
O TSU: You will never see me again.
(Controlling her expression. Just then Kakiēmon comes down the hill with face wreathed in smiles and enters.)
KAKIĒMON: Ah, O Tsu! Well, I’m glad to see you. And here’s good news for you. You know so far practically all those red enamel pieces that I have fired have been failures, so I went up today and examined the kiln and I see now for the first time that it isn’t built properly. I wonder why I didn’t notice that before. Now with my secret of the glaze discovered success is at last within reach. Aren’t you glad? Isn’t that splendid, eh? Isn’t that fine?
O TSU: Yes, that is splendid. I’m so glad. And how long do you think it will be?
KAKIĒMON: Well, it’ll take a month or so to rebuild the kiln. Then we must allow another two to get the pieces ready and fire them I suppose. Say three months from now and overglaze enamelware quite equal to any of the Chinese work will be made in Japan. And by the end of this year I’ll be able to buy you anything you want.
O TSU: I don’t want anything at all, but please buy some nice clothes for O Tané San and Kurisaku.
KAKIĒMON: Of course I will. But before that we must see to your bridal outfit. You must have seven or eight chests and coffers and dresses of embroidery and an over-dress of figured crepe. But your wedding dress of pure white silk will suit you best of all.
O TSU: My wedding dress of pure white. Ah!
KAKIĒMON: Well, I hope to see it before long. Anyhow, by next spring we ought to have turned the corner and be quite well off.
O TSU: I must be getting back now, father.
KAKIĒMON: And I must be moving too. I’m sorry I haven’t more time to stay and have a longer chat, but there is a lot of important work that can’t wait; but come again in a
few days’ time.
O TSU: I don’t think I shall be able to do that.
KAKIĒMON: Well then, anyhow, we shall expect you on the tenth of next month; that’s the seventh anniversary of your mother’s death. Come early in the morning.
O TSU: No, don’t expect me then. I may be prevented from coming for all I know.
KAKIĒMON: What! You may not come on your mother’s anniversary? Ah, I see; you are thinking it may be inconvenient for Master Gohei and his family. That’ll be all right. I’ll send O Tané to ask them to excuse you, so you need not be anxious about that. Well, I must be off to my workshop. Mind you are back before it gets dark.
(Steps down and goes off to the right, takes out the key and opens the door. There is a noise of pottery falling and breaking.)
O TSU: Is anything broken?
(Steps down from the house. Kakiēmon goes into his workshop and comes out again with a broken tea-bowl in his hand.)
KAKIĒMON: Just look here, O Tsu! Ah, how frail a thing is pottery!
O TSU: To speak of something less pleasant, as I came by I saw Niimura Hanbei San standing at his gate. Hasn’t he grown old suddenly since he lost his daughter?
KAKIĒMON: Ah, it’s a wonder he’s alive at all. If it had been me I wouldn’t have survived it.
O TSU: His daughter and I used to learn writing together. She was a sweet, gentle girl. But when she was deserted by her lover
I suppose there was nothing for it but to throw herself into the Arita River.
KAKIĒMON: It was a sad affair. But rather than live to be laughed at, and bring shame on her father, and so become guilty of unfilial conduct as well, to die in the way she did was far better.
O TSU: Then you think the way she died was a fine one?
KAKIĒMON: Can’t say I do. People shouldn’t go and throw themselves into the first river they come to, right under your nose like that. They ought to go to some place a respectable distance away to do it. But enough of that sort of thing. That girl was a namesake of yours, wasn’t she?
